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I 



PEINCIPLES 



MENTAL PHYSIOLOGY, 

WITH THEIR APPLICATI0N6 TO 

THE TEAININa AND DISCIPLINE OF THE ^UKD, 

AND 

THE STUDY OF ITS MOEBID OONDITlONa 



BY 



WILLIAM B. CARPENTER, M.D., LL.r>. 

F.RS., F.L.S., F.G.S., 

REGISTRAR OP THE UNIVERSITr OP LONDON ; 

OORRKS PONDING MEMBER OP THE INSTITUTE OP PRAKOR, 

AND 01? THE AMERICAN PHILOSOPHICAL SOOrBTY ; 



NEW YORK: 
B. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 

12 FIFTH AVENUE. 
1900. 



TO THE MEMORY OF 



Sir henry HOLLAND, Baet., D.G.L.. F.R.S., 

PRESIDENT OP THE ROTAL INSTITDTIOIT, 
BTO. ETC. 

AS AN EXPRESSION OF THE AUTHOR's GRATITITOH 

FOR BENEFITS DERIVED FROM 

HIS SCIENTIFIC WRITINGS, 

HIS WISE COUNSELS, 

AND HT3 CORDIAL ENCOURAGEMENT, 

DUillVG A KRTr-NlJSHTP OF THIRTY YEARS. 



PREFACE 

TO THE FOUETH EDITIOK 



Since the first issue of tlie following Treatise, the question 
of " Human Automatism" has largely engaged the attention 
of that increasing portion of the public mind which interests 
itself in scientific enquiry. The Address of the eminent 
Physicist who occupied the Presidential chair at the Belfast 
Meeting of the British Association, embodied a philosophical 
creed of which it seems a necessary corollary, that all Mental 
as well as bodily activity, being the outcome of the " poten- 
tialities " of Matter, is subject to Physical conditions alone. 
— The distinguished Biologist who brilliantly expounded at 
the same Meeting the Cartesian doctrine that "Animals are 
Automata," explicitly maintained (in direct opposition to 
Descartes himself) that Man is only a more complicated and 
variously-endowed Automaton: his bodily actions being 
determined solely by Physical causes ; the succession of his 
Mental states depending entirely upon the molecular activi- 
ties of his Cerebrum ; and the movements he is accustomed 
to regard as expressing his feelings, or as executing his inten- 
tions, having their real origin in Brain-changes, of which those 
feelings and intentions are the mere concomitant " symbola 



viii Preface to the Fourth Edition. 

in consciousness."* — Professor Huxley's j^?r6>?^^^?^<?^<2??^^?^^f(? was 
Boon followed by that of an able Mathematician, who 
brought to that profoundly difficult problem of " Body and 
Mind " which has exercised the greatest intellects from Aris- 
totle to J. S. Mill, the training of a skilled athlete, who 
knocks down with one vigorous blow any opponent unpre- 
pared for his peculiar mode of attack. Belying exclusively 
upon Physical experiences, Professor Clifford affirmed without 
the smallest hesitation,-[- that as the only thing which can 
possibly be conceived to influence Matter is either the 
position or the motion of surrounding matter, the state- 
ment " that the Will influences Matter " is simply " non- 
sense ; " an affirmation which assumes that Professor Clifford 
knows all about matter and its dynamical relations, and 
therefore has an unquestionable right to say that Mankind 
at large are wrong in the conviction that the movements 
of their Bodies are in any way directed by their Minds. 

From the confidence with which what are asserted to be 
the inevitable conclusions of Physiological science, are now 
advanced in proof of the doctrine of Human Automatism, it 
might be supposed that some new facts of peculiar impor- 
tance had been discovered, or some more cogent deductions 
drawn from the facts previously known. But after an atten- 
tive re- examination of the whole question, I find nothing in 
the results of more recent researches to shake the convic- 
tion at which I arrived nearly forty years ago, J of the 

* ** Fortnightly Eeview," November, 1874, p. 577. 
t " Fortnightly Review," December, 1874, p. 728. 

4: " On the Voluntary and Instinctive Actions of Living Beings," in thfl 
Edinburgh Medical and Surgical Journal, No. 132 (1837). 



Preface to the Fottrth Edition, ix 

existence of a fundamental distinction, not only between 
the Rational actions of sentient beings guided by experience, 
and the Automatic movements of creatures whose whole life 
is obviously but the working of a mechanism, — but also 
between those actions (common to Man and intelb'gent 
brutes) which are determined by a preponderating attraction 
towards an object present to the consciousness, and those 
(peculiar, as I believe, to Man) in which there is, at one 
stage or another, that distinct purposive intervention of the 
self-conscious Ego which we designate Will, whereby the 
direction of the activity is modified. 

What modern research seems to me to have done, is to 
elucidate the mechanism of Automatic action ; to define with 
greater precision the share it takes in the diversified phe- 
nomena of Animal life, psychical as well as physical ; and to 
introduce a more scientific mode of thought into the Physio- 
logical part of the enquiry. But in so far as those who 
profess to be its expositors ignore the fundamental facts of 
Consciousness on which Descartes himself built up his phi- 
losophical fabric, dwelling exclusively on Physical action as 
the only thing with which Science has to do, and repudiating 
the doctrine (based on the universal experience of mankind) 
that the Mental states which we call Volitions and Emotions 
have a causative relation to Bodily changes, they appear to 
me to grasp only one half of the problem, to see only one 
Bide of the shield (^ 2). That the principle of the Conservation 
of Energy holds good not less in the Living body, than in 
the Inorganic world, I was myself among the earliest to 



Preface to the Fourth Edition. 



maintain.* That in the most powerful Muscular effort 
which can be called forth by the Human Will, there is no 
more a creation of Energy than in an Automatic convulsion, 
I believe as firmly as Professor Clifford. And that the general 
tendency of modern Scientific research is to extend the 
domain of Law to every form of mundane change, — the 
belief in the Uniformity of Causation being now assumed 
as axiomatic in all scientific procedure, — I recognize as fully 
as Mr. Herbert Spencer (§ 574). This tendency could not 
be expressed more forcibly, than in the following citation 
from Mr. H. Sidgwick's recent Treatise : — 

" The belief that events are determinately related to the state of 
things immediately preceding them, is now held by all competent 
thinkers in respect of all kinds of occurrences except Human Volitions, 
It has steadily grown both intensively and extensively, both in clear- 
ness and certainty of conviction, and in universality of application, as 
the human mind has developed and human experience has been system- 
atized and enlarged. Step by step, in successive departments of fact, 
conflicting modes of thought have receded and faded, until at length 
they have vanished everywhere, except from this mysterious citade] 
of Will."t 

Before enquiring, however, whether there is adequate 
ground for regarding the Human Will in this exceptional 
light, it may be well to consider what basis there is for the 
assumption that the range of Physical Causation extends 
itself from the sphere of Matter to that of Mind, — in otlier 
words, that Moral Causation and Physical Causation are 
convertible terms. 

It may be fairly urged, on one side, that the tendency of 

* ** On the Mutual Relations of the Vital and Physical Forces/ Fhilos, 
Transact., 1850. 
t "The Methods of Ethics," p. 47. 



Preface to the Fourth Edition, xi 

modern Scientific investigation has been to show that a very 
large proportion (if not the whole) of those changes whose 
succession constitutes our Mental life, are determinately 
related, on the one hand, to the Mental states which 
immediately preceded them, and, on the other, to the 
Material conditions of the Bodily organism. The pure 
Metaphysician, who studies the " Laws of Thought " in 
the abstract, as if Man consisted of Mind without Body, 
no more doubts the former, than the Physiologist, who 
works upwards from Body to Mind, and studies the 
successions of Consciousness as functions 'of the Nervous 
System, can question the latter. And the Psychologist, 
whose object (to use the words of Mr. Herbert Spencer) 
is to elucidate "not the connection between internal 
" phenomena, nor the connection between external phe- 
" nomena, but the connection between these two con- 
" nections," and who studies the relation between Psychical 
phenomena and Physical conditions through the whole range 
of the Animal kingdom, interpreting these phenomena by a 
scientific scrutiny of his own experiences, and applying the 
knowledge thus gained to the explanation of the actions of 
organisms whose constitution resembles his own (this enquiry 
being the special object of the present Treatise), finds him- 
eelf irresistibly brought to the conclusion that Automatism* 
has a very large share in the life of every Human being ; and 
is thus naturally led to question whether there is any part of 

* In the term ** Automatism," as used here and elsewhere, I include not 

!n<'rc'ly those Bodily but those Mental activities, which are, determinafely 
related to (or, in other words, are caused by) previous bodily or mental activi* 
ties, to the exclusion of all choice or self- direction on the part of the Ego. 



^^'^ Preface to the Fourth Edition. 

Man's action which is exempted from the Law of Pliysical 
Causation. 

The corrective to this view, however, appears to me to be 
furnished by the intelligent study of that large class of the 
phenomena of Human Nature, which lies patent to every 
trained observer in the ordinary course of events. For the 
more carefully he studies these phenomena, the more clearly 
is he led to see that, as has been pithily said by Emerson, 
" Thoughts rule the World ;^^ and that, though the spheres 
of moral and physical Causation impinge (as it were) upon 
one another, they are in themselves essentially distinct. 
The influence of a great Idea conceived by a thinker 
in his closet, in dominating the action of an entire 
Nation, is utterly disproportioned to any conceivable play 
of molecular forces that can be excited by the Physical 
agency of the thinker in putting his idea into speech 
or writing. The Moral power of the *' thoughts that 
breathe, and words that burn" in the utterances of the 
Poet, cannot be correlated, like the mechanical Energy 
exerted by his muscles in the writing of his verse, with the 
quantity of food he may have consumed in their production. 
And the new direction that may be given to the whole 
course of two lives, by the faintest expression of Emotion in 
a tone, a look, or a touch, cannot be brought to any common 
measure, either with those Muscular contractions, or with 
those molecular changes in Nervous matter, which are the 
Physical causes of its manifestation. 

But to this it may be replied that, even when we look at 
Human action from its Mental side, without any regard to 



Preface to the Fourth Edition. xiii 

Physical antecedents, we cannot help recognizing in it the 
principle of Causation by character and circumstances ; and 
that without the power of prediction which we derive from 
organized experience, as is well stated by Mr. Sidgwick 
(Op. cit. p. 48), social life would be impossible. But 
while every one admits the existence of Uniformities in 
Human action which constitute the basis of our Social 
fabric, every one also admits that the closest observation of 
these Uniformities, and the most sagacious analysis of their 
conditions, does not justify anything more than a " fore- 
cast" of the course of action, either of individuals or of 
communities, in any given contingency. **Who would 
have thought that he would have done such a thing?" is 
our frequent exclamation in regard to some one of whom we 
considered that we had a most intimate knowledge : that " the 
unexpected [in Politics] is what always happens," has passed 
into a proverb. It is, of course, open for the Automatist to 
assert that the element of uncertainty here arises, as in the 
case of weather-forecasts, from the complexity of the con- 
ditions, and from our imperfect acquaintance with them: 
and he might fairly urge, on general grounds, that if we 
could grasp the whole of the antecedents, and measure the 
potency of each, no " unconditioned " or self-originating 
element would be found to have interfered with the regular 
sequence of cause and effect. But he has no right whatever 
to assume this. The whole history of Science shows that 
the investigation of " residual phenomena " has been a most 
fertile means of discovery in regard to agencies not pre- 
viously suspected. And until it shall have been proved that 



xiv Preface to the Fourth Edition. 

there are no Humaa actions which cannot be accounted for 
by "unconditional sequence," such an assumption cannot 
be admitted as an adequate disproof of the testimony borne 
by Human Consciousness to the opposite effect. *' It is im- 
" possible for me to think," says Mr. Sidgwick, (Op. 
cit. p. 51), " in the moment of deliberate volition, that 
*' my volition is completely determined by my formed cha- 
'•'• racter and the motives acting upon it. The opposite 
" conviction is so strong as to be absolutely unshaken by 
" the evidence brought against it. I cannot believe it to be 
" illusory. * * * '^q amount of experience of the sway 
'^ of motives even tends to make me distrust my intuitive 
" consciousness, that in resolving after deliberation I exer- 
*' cise free choice as to which of the motives acting on me 
'^ shall prevail. Nothing short of absolute proof that this 
" consciousness is erroneous, could overcome the force with 
'^ which it announces itself as certain ; and I cannot perceive 
" that such proof has been given." 

It is alleged, indeed, that the belief entertained by all 
men — except Philosophers — in their own freedom of choice 
(within certain limits) between different modes of action, ig 
an illusion of ignorant " common sense," which, like the 
vulgar belief that the sun moves round the earth, is utterly 
dispelled by the light of Science. But the two beliefs rest 
upon an entirely different basis. The latter, like other 
erroneous beliefs which arise in the exercise of our 
senses, is an inference from the facts of Consciousness, 
which a more enlarged experience (such as that afforded by 
almost every railway-journey) shows to be untenable: the 



Preface to the Fourth Edition. :xv 

former is the immediate affirmation of Consciousness itself, 
the assiirance of which, its constant recurrence under a great 
variety of conditions only serves to confirm. 

The direct Testimony of Consciousness as to any one oU 
its primal cognitions, must be held, as it seems to me, of 
higher account than the deductions of Eeason from data 
afibrded by other cognitions ; constituting, in fact, a " base 
'* of verification " to which all our logical triangulation must 
be worked back, if we desire to test its validity. And no 
fact of Consciousness as to which Mankind in general is in 
accord, can be disproved save by the contradiction afforded 
by some other primary cognition of superior validity. For, 
as has been truly said by John S. Mill, " feeling and 
" thought are much more real than anything else ; they 
" are the only things which we directly know to be 
"real."* We know nothing about matter, as Berkeley 
demonstrated, except by inference from the manner in 
which its states affect our consciousness ; " itself we do not 
" perceive ; we are not conscious of it." And hence those 
so-called " experiences," on the basis afforded by which the 
whole fabric of Physical Science is built up, being really 
nothing else than " assumptions to account for our sen- 
" sations " (Mill), can only be accepted as valid, in so far a*^ 
they accord with those primal cognitions which we cannot 
dissociate from our own consciousness of personal agency. 
Thus, for example, when Professor Clifford affirms {loc. cit,) 
that no interaction can possibly take place between Bodily 
and Mental states, — the Physical facts going along by them- 

* " Posthumous Essays," p. 202. 



xvi Preface to the Fourth Edition, 



Belves, and the Mental facts going along by themselves, on 
two utterly different platforms, — he calls upon us to receive 
as the indubitable teaching of Science, the result of a pro- 
cess of reasoning based upon one set of experiences alone ; 
notwithstanding that this is completely contradicted by 
another set, which, as appealing much more directly to our 
own consciousness, has a stronger claim upon our accept- 
ance. For all Mankind — except philosophers of Professor 
Clifford's school — accept it as a fact " based on the normal 
" experience of healthy men " that running a pin into one's 
flesh is the cause of that mental state which we call pain 
(Huxley, Op. cit. p. 574) ; a certain neurosis^ or molecular 
change in the Nervous system, producing a corresponding 
psychosis, or affection of the Consciousness. And, con- 
versely, since all Mankind — except the followers of Pro- 
fessors Huxley and Clifford — accept it as a fact " based on 
the normal experience of healthy men," that the state of 
mind which we term Volition is the cause of the muscular 
movement that gives expression to it — a psychosis pro- 
ducing the neurosis which calls forth Muscular contraction — 
I cannot see that this conviction can be nullified by any 
inference drawn from an order of facts that is capable of an 
entirely different interpretation. The doctrine propounded 
by Professor Huxley in his Belfast lecture, that the feeling 
we call Volition is not the cause of the voluntary act, but the 
** symbol in consciousness " of that state of the Brain which 
is the immediate cause of that act (like the blowing of the 
steam-whistle, which signals, but does not cause, the 
starting of the locomotive), and that the strongest Volition 



Preface to the Fourth Edition. xvii 

has therefore no y^ower in itself to call forth a movement, 
seems to me to find its best answer in the explicit statement 
which he himself put forth not many years previously, that 
*' the belief that our Volition counts for something as a coii' 
" dition in the course of events," is one which " can b(s 
"verified experimentally as often as we like to try," and 
therefore ^' stands upon the strongest foundation upon 
'* which any belief can rest, and forms one of our highest 
"truths."* 

When we come to examine the reasons latterly as- 
signed by Professor Huxley for giving up this assured 
belief, we find them mainly based on the fact that certain 
actions which would be ordinarily accounted Volitional (as 
being initiated by an intentional effort) in Man, can be 
performed under circumstances which strongly indicate a 
purely Automatic causation. 

Thus it has been shown by Goltz, that a Frog from wMch the Cere- 
brum has been removed, and -which (according to ordinary Physiolo- 
gical doctrine) has consequently lost the power of voluntary move- 
ment, will jump when irritated, the direction of this movement being 
affected by the incidence of light upon its eyes; though making no 
effort to feed itself, it will swallow food put into its mouth, and may 
thus be kept alive for weeks or months ; and will utter its croak when 
a particular part of its back is stroked. But further, although, when 
put on the hand, the Erog sits there crouched, perfectly quiet, and 
would remain so unless stimulated to action, yet (says Professor Hux- 
ley) " if the hand be inclined very gently and slowly, so that the frog 
*■' would naturally slip off, the creature's forepaws are shifted on to the 
" edge of the hand until he can just prevent himself from falling. II 
" the turning of the hand be continued, he mounts up with great care 
'* and deliberation, putting first one leg forward, and then the other, 
'• until he balances himself with perfect precision upon the edge, and 

* *' Lay Sermons," p. 160. 



xviii Preface to the Fo2L7'th Edition. 

** in tlie turning of the hand over he goes through the opposite set of 
** operations, until he conies to be seated in security upon the back of 
" the hand.'' — {Fortnightly Review, Nov. 1874, p. 567). 

Now, that Man is himself continually making yet more 
elaborate adjustments of his muscular movements, under 
circumstances which forbid the idea that they are in any way 
directed by his Conscious Will, is expressly shown in various 
parts of the present work. Some of these actions, as coughing 
(§ 47) and sucking (§ 48), are originally or primarily Auto- 
matic; and can be experimentally shown not to depend upon 
Cerebral instrumentality, except when performed in obedience 
to a Volitional mandate. Others, as walking erect (§ § 16-18), 
are originally performed under the conscious purposive direc- 
tion of the mind ; but, when they have once become habitual, 
they may be repeated involuntarily, and even unconsciously, 
by a secondary or acquired Automatism, the mechanism of 
which has constructed itself in virtue of the tendency of the 
Nervous system to grow to the mode in which it is habitually 
exercised (§ 278). And this is equally true of those more 
special activities which have been acquired by " training," 
- — such as rope-dancing (§ 381), music-playing (§ 194), 
juggling with balls (§ 194), &c. ; for these may be per- 
formed (as we are accustomed truly enough to say) *' me- 
chanically " by any individual by whom they have been so 
habitually repeated as to have become a " second nature." 

Of this general principle, of which numerous examples 
will hereafter come before the reader, the following singu- 
larly curious illustration, which I have lately received from 
a trustworthy source (a Clergyman in the North of Eng- 
land), may be here presented : — 



Preface to the Fourth Edition. xix 

** While I was a student in Dublin University, I was at an evening 
" party at which a ladj^ was asked to play for dancing. Unfortunately 
" she had taken far too much at supper ; and was, in fact, after she 
"had begun to play, so drunk as to be totally unable to rise off the 
" stool. I was standing near the piano, and saw her eyes close, her 
" head fall forward, and give every manifestation of sleep except snore 
** aloud. But her playing went on in perfect time ; and, in fact, the 
" ditficulty was, when she had ended a waltz or quadrille, to make her 
** stop ; for when she was shaken out of sleep, it was evidently her 
" intention to go on the whole night. To set her going again, it was 
''* only necessary to place her hands on the keys, and she would begin 
" a new quadrille, soon again relapsing into sleep, and yet continuing 
*' to play well. I was studying a deep course of Metaphysics at the 
"time, for my degree in those subjects in Trinity College; and the 
*' case made a great impression on my mind. I could not account for 
" it on any of my then principles ; but I see it perfectly now." 

I have recently learned, too, that it is no uncommon experience in 
Telegraph offices, for transmitters of messages, when they have been for 
some time in the service, to work the instruments without conscious 
thought of what they are doing. " They read the words," says my 
informant, "pass them through their minds, and transfer them to 
" the sending part of the apparatus, just as unconsciously and auto- 
" matically as Wheatstone's transmitter does. I have often found 
"myself," he continues, "indulging in trains of thought, or even 
" listening to a conversation that might be going on near me, and yet 
" continue to ' receive * and ' send' just as if I was giving my whole at- 
" tention to the work; and when I came to see the messages after- 
" wards, I knew that they had passed through my hands only by the 
" handwriting. Once, indeed, when on night duty, I became com- 
" pletely unconscious whilst sending a long and monotonous * group ' 
" message, consisting entirely of figures, and woke up bewildered; 
" and had to ask the receiving station ' after what ? ' before I could 
" proceed. Some clerks believe that the work is done more accurately 
"when done automatically; but I scarcely think this justified by 
" experience." 

However strange these statements may seem, they find 

their parallel in our own familiar experience. For almost 

every one who has been much in the habit of reading alond, 

is well aware that he may continue to do this with perfect 

articulation, punctuation, emphasis, and intonation, while 



XX Preface to the Fozcrth Edition. 

his mind is so completely engrossed by some entirely dif- 
ferent subject, that, until his Attention is recalled to it, ho 
is no more aware that he is reading, or conscious of the 
guidance he has been receiving from his visual sense, than ia 
the philosopher of the pursuance of his walk whilst his whole 
mind is given to the solution of some knotty problem (§ 1 17). 
The only difference between the case of the reader-aloud and 
that of the telegraph-clerk, is that the words whose visual 
pictures have fallen on the retina, are expressed in the one 
case by acts of vocalisation, in the other by a special kind of 
finger-language. So, the case of the musical performer 
who continued to play quadrilles in her sleep, is analogous to 
that of the ambulatory thinker ; a previously acquired suc- 
cession of movements, once initiated, going on without 
conscious direction ; each movement being suggested by that 
which preceded it, and itself suggesting the next. 

The same explanation seems to me to be legitimately 
applicable to the case of the French Sergeant, on which great 
stress is laid by Prof Huxley {lac. cit. p. 568) as indicating 
that what we are accustomed to call Voluntary action in our- 
selves is really Automatic. For, as a consequence of a wound 
in the head received at Gravelotte, this man frequently passed 
spontaneously into a state closely resembling that of the 
artificially-induced Hypnotism, whose phenomena are de- 
scribed in the latter part of this Treatise (§§ 493 — 500). 
The essential peculiarity of this state is the suspension of 
ohe directing and controlling power of the Will ; so that the 
whole course of action is determined Automatically by Sug- 
gestion, And its phenomena, so far from a.ffording any 



Preface to the Fourth Edition. ^^^ 

evidence that the same is the case in our normal state, and 
that what we call Will is only the " symbol in conscious- 
ness " of a material change which would equally take place 
without it, seem to me to testify exactly the contrary. For 
v<e cannot help recognizing a marked difference between 
tlio normal and the abnormal stsites of such subjects ; and, as I 
think I have demonstrated in my discussion of these and ot 
allied states (Chaps. XIV., XV.), that difference essentially 
consists in the suspension in the latter state of that 
Volitional power, which in the former directs and controls 
the successions of thought and action. And on the recog- 
nition of this difference will depend our appreciation of the 
relative Moral " responsibility " of the subjects of these 
states, for the same actions performed in the normal and in 
the abnormal conditions respectively. Thus we should hold 
the French Sergeant fully '^ responsible " for any theft he 
might commit when in full possession of his wits ; and yet 
for the very same action performed in his Automatic state, 
we should be ready to admit the excuse that he had no 
power of self-control (p. xxxviii;. 

Thus, as it seems to me, the cases cited by Professor 
Huxley are readily explicable by the principle of secondary 
or acquired Automatism first explicitly laid down by 
Hartley ; this taking the place in Man (save as regards such 
ai.rions as breathing and sucking, which are essential to the 
life of the infant) of those which are primary or original 
among the lower animals. And I hold it to be the legiti- 
mate inference from the fact that certain actions of the 
Frog, resembling those which Man might execute Volition- 



xxii Preface to the Fourth Edition, 

ally under like circumstances, are performed Automatically, 
that a provision exists in the inherited structure of the 
Frog, for doing that which Man only learns to do b;? 
intentional ^' training," — an inference which all Physiolo 
gical study tends to confirm. For the fullest recognition 
of Automatism in the performances of Goltz's frog does 
not in the least invalidate the testimony of my own 
Consciousness, that when, being called on to balance my 
body under some unaccustomed circumstances (as in crossing 
a stream on a narrow plank, or over a series of stepping- 
stones), I give my whole attention to the act, the 
movements of my body are executed under my intentional 
direction. Again, the fact that various actions have become 
so familiar to me by habit as to be performed Automati- 
cally, affords no real contradiction to the testimony of my 
own Consciousness, that when I was first trained (or was 
training myself) to execute them, my Will issued the 
mandates which were carried into efiect by my muscles. 
I cannot believe that a piece of delicate handiwork, such as 
a minute dissection, or the painting of a miniature — requir- 
ing constant visual guidance, and trained exactness of 
muscular response — can be executed without a distinct 
Volitional direction of each movement. And I find myself 
quite unable to conceive that when I am consciously 
attempting, whether by speech or by writing, to excite in 
the minds of my readers the ideas which are present to my 
own consciousness at the moment, it is not my Mind which 
is putting my lips or my hand in motion, but that (as 
Professor Huxley maintains) it is my Body which is moving 



Preface to the Fourth Edition, ^^i"* 

of itself and simply keeping my mind informed of its 
movements. 

If this doctrine were true, not only of particular cases, 
but of Human life generally, it is obvious that its stream 
would flow on exactly as it does, if we had no Consciousness 
at all of what we are about ; that the actions and reactions 
of the " ideagenous molecules " would do the work of the 
philosopher, even if they never generated ideas in his mind : 
that he would give forth its results in books or lectures, not 
from any intention or desire that his books should be read 
and his lectures heard, so as to bring the thoughts of other 
minds into relation with his own, but simply because certain 
molecular motions in his brain call forth the movements of 
speech or writing; and that, in like manner, the noblest 
works of genius — the master-pieces of the poet, the artist, 
and the musician — would none the less be produced, 
if the " symbols in consciousness " were never evoked 
in their producers' nature, and would prove » none the less 
attractive to other Automata, if the molecular movements of 
their brains should be equally incapable of exciting either 
intellectual or emotional activity; such activity being, to 
use a legal phrase, mere "surplusage." To myself this 
seems like a reductio ad absurdum. For although I maintain 
in the present Treatise that an Automatic action may take 
j.lace in the Cerebrum, which, without any intervention of 
consciousness, may evolve products usually accounted 
Mental, yet in all such cases the action takes place on the 
lines previously laid down by Volitional direction; being 
exactly parallel, in the case of cerebral action, to that 



XXIV Preface to the Fourth Editio7i, 

secondary or acquired Automatism, by which particular kinds 
of Movement, originally acquired by ^^ training," come to be 
performed " mechanically." 

I fail to find, then, in any of the modern developmentB 
either of Physical or Physiological science, any adequate 
grounds for abandoning the position maintained in the 
following Treatise, as to the direction and control to 
which the Automatic activity of Man is subject in pro- 
portion to the development of his Yolitional power, — that 
is, the power exerted by the Ego not only with a distinct 
purposCj but with a consciousness of effort^ the strength of 
which is the mark and measure of its exercise. 

The direct testimony of Consciousness, in regard not only 
to the existence of this Yolitional power, but also to the 
Self-determination of the Ego in the exercise of it, is borne 
out by numerous other considerations of various degrees of 
cogency, more or less intimately related to each other ; the 
aggregate of which, like that of the mutually-supporting 
outworks round a citadel, adds enormously to the strength of 
the position, though each independently might be inefficient 
for its defence. 

1. It is supported by the very existence of the Idea 
symbolised in the word choice; an idea which we could 
iiot entertain, if we did not find something answerable 
to it in our own subjective experience. For in eX'^ 
ternal Nature there is nothing that can be truly termed 
" choice." If a piece of Iron be brought within the s[)here 
of attraction of two Mao:nets placed on opposite sides of it. 



Priface to the Fourth Edition, xxv 

one near but feeble, the otber strong but remote, we feel 
assured that it will be drawn towards the one which makes 
the stronger pull upon it ; and we take its motion in one or 
the other direction, as the indication of the superior tractive 
furce of the magnet towards which it tends. To use the 
^'ord " choice " in such a case — tQ say that the iron chooses 
towards which of the magnets it shall move, — would be felt 
by every one a misapplication of the term. The same would 
be the case as regards any other action determined by Phy- 
sical Causation. And j^et on the Determinist doctrine, if I 
am attracted bj- the temptation of an immediate but im- 
moral pleasure, and am deterred from it either by a sense of 
duty or by the fear of the remote consequences of the sin, I 
have no more " choice " as to the course I shall take, than 
has the piece of iron that is attracted in opposite directions 
by two magnets. Now my contention is, not merely that I 
ham a choice, but that the very existence of an Idea which 
can be derived from no other source than Human experience, 
confirms the testimony of my own consciousness to that 
effect.* And the like confirmation is afforded by the familiar 
reply " I have no choice ^^^ in cases in which we feel it to be 
a necessity (whether physical or moral) that we should take 
a particular line of action. 

That in making our Choice, and in acting upon it, we are 
determined by the " preponderance of motives," 1 do not 
call ill question; the Self-determining power of the Will 



* The case seems to me exactly parallel to that of the uotion of Force, whiob 
is based oq our own consciousness of effort iu oriiiiuating or ia resisting Motion 
(§ 575). 



xxvi Preface to the Fotcrth Edition, 

seemiDg to me to be exerted in modifying the preponderance 
which the motives per se would determine. The affirmation 
that our actions are determined by the strongest motives, 
appears to me, indeed, a mere truism ; being only anothei 
mode of saying that the motive which prevails is tht 
strongest. For we have no other test of the relative strength 
of motives, than that which is afforded by our experience of 
their action in each individual case. If we put into a 
balance two bodies of known densities, we can predict, by 
the comparison of their dimensions, which will preponderate. 
But, if the density of one or both is unknown, we can only 
determine which is the heavier by seeing which scale goes 
down. And so we can have no other measure of the relative 
strength of Motives of different orders, than that which is 
afforded by their respective effects in the determination of 
the conduct. Now, all experience shows that Motives which 
may exert a preponderating influence at one moment, are 
comparatively powerless at another ; on the other hand, 
Motives whose influence at one moment is scarcely felt, may 
come to acquire a force that makes them far outweigh those 
which at first over-balanced them. This is especially ap- 
parent when we exert our Volitional power of " self- 
control " to check the immediate action which is prompted 
by some Automatic impulse; time being thus gained for 
f-.he excited feeling to subside, and for the " second 
thoughts " of the higher Reason to make themselves heard.* 

* It is not always, however, that '* second thonghts are best." For th« 
immediate impulse may be a benevolent one, and the ''sec^vnd thoughts* 

tlc.hberafely selfish. 



Preface to the Fourth Edition. xxvii 

And a furtlier reflection on our own mental experi- 
ences will satisfy us, that these variations in the relative 
strength of Motives mainly arise from the degree of Atten- 
tion that we give to each respectively. An excited Feeling 
which would soon die-out if left to itself, will retain its 
potency, or even gain augmented force, if we allow ourselves 
to brood over it ; whilst, on the other hand, the power of 
those remoter considerations which deliberation suggests, 
increases in proportion as they are dwelt on. And just as, in 
the case of the two magnets, we may reverse their relative 
attractions by changing their respective distances from the 
iron between them, so can each Ego who has acquiied the 
power of directing his own course of Thought and Feeling, 
alter the relative potency of different motives or sets of 
motives, by determinately directing his attention to those 
which would draw him in one direction, and by partially or 
completely excluding those of an opposite tendency from his 
mental view. 

If it be urged by the Automatist that this fixation of the 
Ego's attention on one set of motives to the exclusion of the 
other, is really due to the superior strength of the motive 
(supplied by his previously-formed character) which leads 
him to desire so to fix it, I reply that no experience of which 
T am conscious is more real to me, than that if I did not 
make an effort to keep my attention fixed, the desire alone 
would fail to do it. I am farther conscious that a great 
deal more is "taken out of me" (to use an expressive 
colloquialism) by the prolongation of such a straggle, than 
by a far larger measure of undistracteJ mental action 



xxviii Preface to the Fourth Edition. 



And I ask, "Why, on the Antomatlst theory, sliould this 
" be? " — To myself it seems clear that it is in the control he 
thus acquires over the Automatism of his nature, that Man's 
freedom of choice essentially consists ; whilst, on the other 
band, it is in virtue of his want of power to gain a complete 
control, that h.\^ freedom is limited. 

This view seems to me to find its strongest support in the 
experience of those who have been most largely and most 
successfully engaged in the Education of the young. For, 
as I have had abundant opportunities of learning, they watch 
for the dawn of this power of reflection and deliberation in 
the child, endeavour to strengthen his feeble resolution by 
judicious encouragement, lead him to reflect upon the con- 
sequences of his misdoing to himself or to others, and give 
additional force to his sense of Duty by earnest appeals to 
it, so as to sustain him in a conflict to which he is as yet 
unequal if left to himself; but at the same time they make 
him feel that he must not always expect such help, and that 
it rests with himself, by habitually fixing his attention upon 
what his Reason and his Moral Sense tell him he ought to 
do, to be able to will to do it against his inclination. 

No experience is so remarkable in its bearing on this 
question, as that of the Philanthropic men and women who 
have taken the largest and most efficient share in the work 
of Juvenile Reformation. For they have to deal with a 
class of boys and girls, who have grown up to a most un- 
manageable age, in habits of entire nnrestrainedness of 
Thought and Feeling, and in no more restrainedness of 
Action than has been imposed on them by external coercion 



Preface to the Fourth Edition. xxix 

or by fear of punishment. These young '' reprobates " have 
not the least idea of self-control, or of doing anything eLse 
than that which their inclinations prompt ; their notions of 
*^ right " are all based upon limited self-interest; and tliey 
hold everything to be " wrong " which interferes with what 
they conceive to be their own ^' rights." Now the first 
lesson that has to be taught them is that of obedience to 
discipline, for which punishment has often to be used as a 
motive. But in proportion as the habit of .s^/f-control is 
acquired, appeals to the better nature come to have a force 
superior to that of mere coercion : and the greatest success is 
attained when that controlling power is spontaneously exerted 
under the direction of the ought or ought not. So, in tho 
cultivation of the dormant Moral Sense, the first teaching 
goes to show that what the pupil considers his [or her] 
" rights " are some one else's " wrongs " ; and the Golden 
Rule is enforced by the practical applications which are 
found most suitable to impress it on each individual nature. 
Thus a foundation is laid for the development of that higher 
Moral sense, on which the principle of Religious obligation 
is most securely based (§§ 209-215). But the result of the 
most successful effort in this direction is only considered to 
have been attained, when the subject of it has been 
awakened to a fall consciousness of possessing a power 
within himself to resist temptation and to act as duty 
directs ; which power it rests with himself to exert, and for 
the non-exercise of which he is responsible.* 

• My information on this subject is mainly derived from my sister, JMarf 
Carpenter ; than whom no one can speak with a greater weight of authority. 



xxx Preface to the Fottrih Edition. 



Of course it will be replied by the Aiitomatist, that all such 
"Training" is part of the external influences which go to tliQ 
formation of the Character ; and that its efficacy depends upon the 
degree in which the sense of Duty can be thus developed by judicious 
culture into efficient predominance. But I affirm it to be a matter of 
notorious experience, that it is the reiteration of the assurance that 
the ChiLl or Juvenile offender can govern his temper, if he will try 
hard enough ; that he can overcome a difficulty, if he will summon 
courage to make a vigorous effort ; that he can choose and act upon 
the right, in spite of strong temptation to do wrong, by determinatdy 
Iceeping before his mind the motives and sanctions of duty, — which 
constitutes the most effectual means of calling forth that power of 
*' Self-control," which the most enlightened Writers of antiquity, and 
the most successful of modern Educators, concur in regarding as the 
most valuable re=;ult alike of Moral and of Intellectual discipline. — To 
the consistent Automatist, who denies the existence in the Ego of any 
self-determining power, and who puts his whole trust in the Motives 
brought to bear from without, it seems to me that the word try can 
really have no more meaning than the word choice. 

2. That the self-consciousness of Freedom involved in the 
very idea of choice is not illusory, is further indicated by the 
universal existence of a Moral Consciousness absolutely in- 
consistent with the notion of Automatism. The conception 
of Freedom, as Mr. Sidgwick remarks (Op. cit. p. 50), 
" is, so to say, the pivot upon which our Moral senti- 
" ments naturally play." Our feelings of approval and dis- 
approval in regard to Human conduct, are of an order 
quite different from those we entertain in regard to 
any kind of Mechanical action. I have no moral appro- 
bation for a chronometer whose perfect time-keeping giv(.>a 
the true place of a ship at sea, or the true longitude of a 
transit -station ; such as I have for the maker of that 
chronometer, whom I know to have put forth his utmost 
skill in its construction, careless of advantage to himself. 



Preface to the Fourth Edition. xxxi 



but thinking only of the human lives he helps to save, or 
the accuracy of the scientific researches in which he thus 
bears an honourably part. Nor have I any moral dis- 
approval for a watch whose stopping or bad-going causes 
me to incur serious detriment by missing a railway-train ; 
such as I have for the workman whose carelessness in put- 
tmg that watch together proves to be the occasion of my 
misfortune. Yet, upon the Automatist theory, neither of 
these Human agents could help doing exactly what he did ; 
and I am therefore alike unreasonable in blaming the man 
who has caused me injury, and in commending the man 
who has done good service. So, again, our feelings, in 
regard to the actions of brutes, or of human beings whose 
iDrute condition seems to justify us in considering them as 
Automata (§ 8), are very different from those with which we 
view the like actions of men whom we regard as possessing 
a self-regulating power.* Yfe should never think of blaming 
a wasp for stinging us, or a poisonous snake for biting us ; 
neither do we esteem a bee deserving of credit for its 
industry in laying up honey for our use, or deem the silk- 
worm an object of gratitude for the toilsome ingenuity with 
which it spins the cocoon whose thread furnishes the mate- 
rial of our most beautiful fabrics; — each of these creatures 

* See the " Psychologie Naturelle" of M. Prosper Despine ; in which ^he 
mental mechanism of Crime is studied from nature, under the guidance of 
views as to the rektion between the Automatism of Man's nature and the cou- 
trolling power of the Will, which essentially correspond with those set forth 
in the present work. A large proportion of Criminal offenders, according to 
M. Despine, are so devoid of Moral Sense, that they must be accounted 
" moral idiots ;" and in many more, tliao ^c^iSu is temporarily overborne bj/ a 
passion which the subject of it has never been trained to controL 



xxxii Preface to the FoiLrth Edition. 

doing that which, it is its " nature " to do, and havir»g no 
power to do otherwise. We make the like allowance for 
young children, or even for ^' children of a larger growth " 
(§ 337), in whom the moral sense and the power of self- 
control have not yet been developed ; as we do also for tho 
Insane, who are either deficient in the power of self- direction, 
or whose will is overborne by some uncontrollable impulse 
(§ 557). We hold them " not responsible" for any injury they 
may do us ; and justify the discipline to which we subject 
them, as alike needful for the welfare of society at large, and 
likely to be beneficial to themselves. But we view in a very 
different light the acts of simple recklessness, still more 
those of deliberate selfishness, and yet more again those of 
treacherous and unmanly brutality, that are committed by 
men who knowing better have preferred the worse ; acting on 
the suggestions of slothful folly, or the cool calculations of 
self-interest, or the fierce impulses of malignant passion, 
without regard to the sufi'erings which their misdeeds may 
bring upon others. 

When, for example, a man throws down stones from a house-top 
without looking to see who is below, or fires a pistol in a crowded 
thoroughfare without care as to who may be in the line of the bullet, 
not only does the law regard him as fully " responsible " for any injury 
that may be caused by his act (holding him guilty of murder if death 
ensues), but public feeling sanctions the infliction of severe punish- 
ment, although he had not intended to do harm to anyone ; and tfcia 
because he could have helped doing what he did, and must have wil- 
fully shut his eyes to its possible or probable consequences. — So, when 
a man deliberately plans to blow up a house or a ship, at the sacrifice 
of scores or (it may be) of hundreds of human lives, for the sake of 
gaining a few scores or hundreds of pounds by a fraudulent policy of 
insurance, the primary instincts of humanity would protest against 



Preface to the Fourth Edition, xxxiii 

his being punished with a view merely to the prevention of similar 
crimes and to his own reformation, and everyone feels that he 
"richly deserves" the heaviest penalty of the law.* — And we have 
no terms of reprobation strong enough for the cowardly ferocity of a 
Nana Sahib ; who gratified his hatred of the British to whom he had 
previously professed to be a friend, by the brutal murder of the 
defenceless women and children who had trusted themselves to his 
protection; and who, if he had been taken "red-hand," would 
assuredly have been deemed by the world in general a fitting object 
of " retributive justice." 

But, as has been pithily remarked, if vice and virtue are 
products like sugar and vitriol, the laws of whose produc- 
tion Science may be expected to discover, " it will be as 
*^ irrational to feel indignation at base and cowardly actions, as 
'''- it would be to feel angry about the chemical affinities." 
And the like may be said of the irrationality, on the 
Automatist hypothesis, of the moral approval we feel for 
acts of noble self-sacrifice ; — such as that of the steersman of 
the burning ship, who held his place at the wheel, so as to 
run the ship towards shore, though the fire beneath was 
roasting the soles of his feet ; — or that of the handful of brave 
men who blew open the gate of Delhi, the stronghold of 
the Indian mutineers, in the face of what seemed certain 
annihilation ; — or that of the six hundred soldiers who kept 
their stations on the deck of the sinking Birkenhead^ while 
the women and children were being lowered into the boats. 
Could we entertain that feeling, if we really believed the men 
whose deeds and sufferings we hold among our most precious 
memories, to be nothing more than well-regulated machines ? 

• I here allude not merely to the recent Bremerhaven explosion, but to a 
case in which the blowing up of a pile of building that contained two hun- 
dred people, was attempted in Glasgow, fortunately without success, when I 
was studjdng in Edinburgh about forty years since. 
8 



xxxiv Preface to the Foztrth Edition. 

One of the most admirable sayings of Fred. W. Kobertsoa 
has always seemed to me to be his reply to the remonstrance 
addressed to him by one of his churchwardens, as to the 
displeasing eftect of the outspokenness of his preaching upon 
some of the principal supporters of his church. " I don't 
^^ care," he said ; meaning, of course, " I must preach as my 
" own sense of duty prompts me." — " You know what ^ don't 
" care ' came to ? " said the remonstrator. — ''Yes, sir," replied 
Robertson, " it came to Calvary." That the sympathetic 
thrill which every true Christian disciple must feel when he 
realises the full force of these pregnant words, is the illusion 
of an unenlightened nature, which the revelations of Science 
will dispel by proving their utterer to have been an Auto- 
maton whose choice between duty and self-interest was 
determined solely by " circumstances," may be the conclu- 
sion of the unimpassioned closet-philosopher ; but the expe- 
rience of all who, like Robertson, make the sublimest of all 
acts of self-sacrifice the rule and guide of their own lives, 
recognises in such sacrifice a Moral power far transcending 
in probative value any logical deduction of the Intellect. 

3. I find the embodiment of that Moral consciousness in 
all Language and Literature ; for whatever may be the judg- 
ment of Ethical philosophers as to the nature and source of 
the fundamental distinction betwen right and wrong ^ and 
whatever may be the direction given to that notion by the 
No/xos by which the judgment of each individual is shaped 
as to what is right and what is wrong (§ 292), the sense in 
which these terms are universally accepted is based on the 



Preface to the Fourth Edition, xxxv 

idea of a s^^-determining capability to do tlie right and to 
avoid the wrong.* This seems to me perfectly clear, when 
we compare this acceptation with the sense we attach to the 
very same words when applied (figuratively) to a piece of pure 
Mechanism. If I say that my watch goes " right," I do not 
assign to it any moral credit, but merely mean that it keeps 
time well. And if I say that it goes " wrong," I do not 
speak of it as an object of blame, but merely mean that it 
wants reo^ulatinof. 

If the " wrong" movement of the self-acting points of a 
Eailway gives such a direction to the train which passes 
over them as causes a terrible sacrifice of life, we do not 
imply by our use of the word the moral criminality with 
which we charge a pointsman whose drunken carelessness 
has brought about a similar calamity. The machine could 
not help acting as it did ; we assume that the pointsman 
could. If the machine proves to have been ill-constructed, 
or to have got out of order by neglect, we blame the man 

* It is not a little instructive to find the Moral Intuitions of men like 
Prof. Clifford rising up to assert themselves against their Philosophy, In hia 
Lecture on "Right and Wrong '^F'/rtnightly Review, T>e,Q., 1875), it is distinctly 
affirmed not only that there is a Moral Sense or Conscience, which is " the whole 
"aggregate of our feelings about right or wrong, regarded as tending to make 
** us do the right actions and avoid the wrong ones, " but, that there are >.eling3 
of moral approval and disapproval which imply " choice ; " that *' a particular 
"motive is made to prevail by the fixing the attention upon that class of re- 
" membeied things which calls up the motive," and that in so far as this act of 
directing the attention is voluntary, "I am responsible because I made the 
"choice ;" and that "within certain limits I am res[)onsible for what I am 
"now, because within certain limits I have made myself." In all this he 
seems to me implicitly to recognize that direction of Bodily action by the 
Mind of the Ego, which in his previous Lecture he distinctly denied (p. xxi. ) ; 
and, whilst still upholding the principle of Uniformity of Sequence, to sur< 
render all that essentially constitutes Automatism. 



xxxvi Preface to the Fourth Edition. 

whom we believe to have been in fault; but if its working 
was deranged by a snow-storm of unprecedented violence, 
we cannot say that any one is chargeable with moral 
"wrong." So, if the pointsman can excuse himself by 
showing that he had been on duty for eight-and-forty hours 
continuously, and did not know what he was about, we shift 
the blame on the Directors who wrongly overtaxed his brain ; 
whilst, if it turns out that his inattention was due, neither to 
drunkenness nor to over-fatigue, but to sudden illness, we 
cannot say that any one was in fault. But, on the Automa- 
tist theory, the pointsman could no more help getting drunk, 
than, when drunk, he could help neglecting his work ; and 
the railway-directors could no more help keeping the points- 
man on duty for forty-eight hours, than he could help 
the bewilderment which was caused by this overstrain of 
his powers. And, neither the drunken pointsman nor the 
reckless directors were any more morally responsible for the 
Joss of life, in the one case, than were the self-acting points 
in the other : each being a machine whose movements were 
determined by the law of its construction and the conditions 
in which it was placed ; and the term ^' wrong," as applied 
to the action of the man, having no other meaning than it 
has when applied to the working of the self-acting points. 
— The Moral Consciousness of Mankind protests against 
Buch an identification. 

So, again, I am unable to attach any definite import i<d 
such words as cyKpareta, (Too(f)poavvrj, continentia, or temperantia^ 
— to see any meaning in the ancient proverb that '^ he that ic 
" slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he that ruletl' 



Pj^eface to the Fourth Edition. xxxvii 



^' his spirit than he that taketh a city,"--or to feel any admira- 
tion for the hero who ''has gained that greatest of all victories, 
" the victory over himself," if the course of action results from 
no other agency than either physical or mental Automatism, 
and no independent power be put forth by the Ego in deter- 
mining it. And if I felt obliged to accept that dof^trine as 
scientific truth, I should look to its honest and consistent 
application to the training of the young as the greatest of 
social calamities. For I can imagine nothing more para- 
lysing to every virtuous effort, more withering to every 
noble aspiration, than that our children should be brought 
up in the belief that their characters are entirely formed ybr 
them by ^'heredity" and " environments" ; that they must 
do whatever their respective characters impel them to do ; 
that they have no other power of resisting temptations to evil, 
than such as may spontaneously arise from the knowledge 
they have acquired of what they ought or ought not to do j 
that if this motive proves too weak, they can do nothing oj 
themselves to intensify and strengthen it; that the notion 
of " summoning their resolution," or " bracing themselves^ 
" for the conflict," is altogether a delusion ; that, in fine, 
they are in the position of a man who is floating down- 
stream in a boat without oars, towards a dangerous cataract, 
and can only be rescued by the interposition of some Deus ex 
m^chind, — How the perception of this, as the logical outcome 
of (he doctrine :f Automatism, weighed "like an incubus*' 
upon the spirit of John Stuart Mill, when he first full} 
awoke to it, he has himself told us in his Autobiography 
(p. 169). " I felt," he says, " as if I was scientifically proved 



xxxviii Preface to the Fourth Edition. 



" to be the helpless slave of antecedent chxumstances ; as 
" if my character and that of all others had been formed for 
" us by agencies beyond our control, and was wholly out of 
*' our own power." And it is not a little curious that, while 
continuing to advocate as scientific truth the determination 
of human conduct by the formed character of each indi- 
vidual, and while excluding any interference, at the final 
stage, with the strict sequence of cause and effect, he impli- 
citly admitted the independence or unconditioned agency of 
the Ego in the formation of his character. " I saw," he 
says, " that though our character is formed by circumstances, 
" our own desires can do much to shape those circum- 
*^ stances ; and that what is really inspiriting and ennobling 
"" in the doctrine of Freewill, is the conviction that we have 
*^ real power over the formation of our own character ; that our 
'^ will, by influencing some of our circumstances, can modify 
'^ our future habits and capacities of willing." I can attach no 
other meaning to this remarkable passage (the teaching of 
which is more fully developed in chap. i. of Book VL of the 
" System of Logic"), than that it recognises a factor in the 
formation of our characters, which is something else than 
" heredity /»te environments." For I can scarcely suppose 
J. S. Mill not to have seen that if a man's desires are them- 
selves the results of antecedent " circumstances," the incu- 
bus of hopeless slavery to those circumstances can no more 
be removed by any desires for self-improvement which ex 
kypotliesi arise out of them, than a weight which bears down 
on a man's shoulders can be lifted off by its own pressure. 
And any one who reads in De Quincey's " Confessions " the 



Preface to the Fourth Edition, xxxix 

graphic narrative of his miserable experiences from the 
abuse of opium (§ 543), will see how ineffectual are the 
strongest desires^ without the will to carry them into effect. 

4. It may be confidently stated as a result of universal 
experience, that our " capacity of willing," that is, of giving 
a preponderance to the motive on which we elect to act, 
depends, first, upon our conviction that we really have such 
a self-determining power, and, secondly^ upon our habitual 
exercise of it. The case which is unfortunately but too 
common, of a man who habitually gives way to the desire 
for Alcoholic excitement, and is ruining himself and his 
family by his self-abandonment, will bring into distinct 
view the practical bearing of the antagonistic doctrines. 

The Automatism of his nature (purely physical so far 
as the bodily craving for Alcohol is concerned, § 155, 
but including, in most cases, some play of social in- 
stincts) furnishes an aggregate of powerful attractions to 
the present gratification. On the other side is an aggre- 
gate of Moral deterrents, which, when the Attention is 
fixed upon them in the absence of the attractive object, 
have a decided preponderance, so far as the desires are con- 
cerned. The slave of intemperance is often ready to cry 
out, " wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me 
" from the body of this death ?" — and he proves his sincerity 
by his readiness to take every indirect precaution that does 
not interfere with his personal liberty. But when the temp- 
tation recurs, the force of the attraction is intensified by its 
actual presence: the direct sensory presentation makes a 



xl Preface to the Foicrth Edition. 

more vivid impression than the ideal representation of tbe 
deterrent motives ; and the balance, which previously turned 
against the indulgence, now preponderates in favour of it. 
What, then, is it within the power of the Ego to do? On 
the Automatist theory, nothing. For not only is he unable 
to call to his aid any motive which does not spontaneously 
arise, but he cannot make any alteration in the relative 
strength of the motives which are actually present to his 
consciousness. He says, to himself and to others, " I could 
" not help yielding " ; and Automatism sanctions the plea. 
Society may be justified in imposing on him either restraint 
or punishment, alike for its own security and for his welfare ; 
but no consistent Automatist can regard him as an object of 
the moral reprobation which we instinctively feel for the self- 
degraded sot; and experience shows that the system of 
external repression almost invariably loses its potency as a 
deterrent, as soon as the restraining influence is withdrawn. 
Now, although I hold it beyond question that a state may 
be induced by habitual Alcoholic indulgence, in which the 
Tinhappy subject of it loses all power of resistance (§§ 544- 
547), I affirm it to be " the normal experience of healthy 
''men," that the ordinary toper has such a power in the earlier 
stages of his decadence, and that he is justly held culpable 
for not exerting it. This power is exercised in the deter- 
minate fixation of the Ego's attention on the deterrent 
motives which he knows ought to prevail, and in the deter- 
minate withdrawal of his mental vision from the attraction 
which he knows ought not to prevail; so that the intensifica- 
tion of the former, and the weakening of the latter give to the 



Preface to the Fourth Edition, xli 

claims of duty a preponderating force in the regulation of 
the conduct. The deliverance of the universal experience of 
Mankind upon this point, seems to me to take a rank equal 
to that of our common-sense decision in regard to the reality 
of an external world (§ 5). And it is confirmed by the 
superior efficacy of our appeal to the better nature of the in- 
dividual we are endeavouring to rescue, when this is backed 
by the assurance that he has the power of escape from the 
enslavement which he feels to be gradually closing in upon 
him, if he will but resolutely exert it. We say to him : — 
" You can conquer, if you will. And it rests with yourself 
" to will. You have every possible motive of the highest 
" kind on the one side, and nothing but the attraction of a 
*^ selfish indulgence on the other. Be a man, and not a 
" beast. Exert the power which you know and feel your- 
" yourself to possess ; keep your thoughts and affections 
" steadily fixed upon the right ; avoid the first step in the 
" downv/ard path ; and when the moment of unexpected 
** temptation comes, make a vigorous effort, determine to 
'^ succeed, and you will come olf victorious. And when you 
" have once done so, you will feel a more assured conviction 
" that you can do so again ; each victory will make the next 
*' easier to you ; and, by steady perseverance, you will re- 
^' acquire that power of self-direction which will enable you 
*^ to keep straight without an effort." — I appeal to the ex- 
perience of such as have had to deal with these sad cases, 
whether this is not the more effective method. 

Whatever allowances Society may be ready to make for 
individual cases — such, for instance, as that of Hartley 



xlii Preface to the Fourth Edition. 

Coleridge, who was the victim of a strong hereditary pre- 
disposition, accompanied by a constitutional weakness of 
will, — it recognizes as a fixed conviction, and consistently 
nets upon that conviction, that the incipient drunkard has 
a power over himself; that he can not only abstain if lie 
chooses^ but that he can choose to abstain because he knows 
that he ought to do so ; and that when, by voluntarily giving 
way to his propensity, he brings himself into a condition in 
which he is no more responsible for his actions than a 
Lunatic, he is not thereby exempted from the penalty that 
may attach to them, but must be held responsible for having 
knowingly and deliberately brought himself into the con- 
dition of irresponsibility. On the Automatist theory, a 
drunkard who deserts a comfortable home for the tap-room 
(I make large allowance for those who have e^^comfortable 
homes), who neglects an attached wife and loving children 
for the society of profligates, and who, with ample means of 
higher enjoyment, surrenders himself without a struggle to 
the allurements of sensual pleasure, and at last renders 
himself amenable to the law by fatal outrage on the patient 
wife who has long borne with his brutality, is no more a 
subject of moral reprobation than poor Hartley Coleridge ; 
who, when he strayed from the loving care of his friends, 
would be found in the parlour of some rural public-house, 
delighting the rustics with his wonderful stories, and in- 
dulging to his heart's content in the unlimited beer which 
ihe publican was only too glad to allow him. When, on 
the other hand, the subject of a strong hereditary Alcoholic 
craving maintains a daily conflict with his tempter, uses 



Preface to the Foicrth Edition, xliii 

every means he can think of to avoid or weaken its seduc- 
tions, puts forth all his energy in resisting thera, and, 
through occasional failures, comes off on the whole vic- 
torious, the consistent Automatist can have no other appio- 
bation to bestow upon him, than that which he would 
accord to a self-governing steam-engine, or a compensation- 
balance watch. 

6. Further, the existence of the ideas currently at- 
tached to the words duty and responsibility, is an evidence 
of the acceptance by Mankind at large, of the belief that 
every normally-constituted individual has a power of choice 
and self-regulation, — " ought" necessarily implying ^^can." 
And this evidence is not invalidated by the discrepancy 
which must always exist between legal and moral respon- 
sibility. For the Law, looking mainly to the protection 
of Society, necessarily deals rather with acts than with 
motives ; and punishments must often be inflicted with a 
deterrent view, which we may not regard the criminal as 
having morally deserved. 

Thus, in the rescue of the Fenian conspirators at Manchester, the 
men who made the attack on the prison- van which involved the death 
of police- sergeant Brett, were doubtless animated by what thej^ deemed 
noble and patriotic motives. They had no ill-will towards Brett in- 
dividually ; but, as the Judge laid it down in his charge to the Grand 
Jury, they were all guilty of murder, as being concerned in the 
common design of using dangerous violence towards any police who 
might resist their efforts in procuring the rescue of the prisoners. 
The man Allen, who fired the fatal shot, seems to have dor e so in the 
full knowledge that the sacrifice of his own life would be the conse- 
quence : — " I will free you, Colonel," he is reported to have said, '* if 
'' I swing for it." If the same thing had been done to rescue an 



xliv Preface to the Fourth Edition. 



escaped slave, or to re-take a ship captured by pirates or mutineers, 
or by an enemy in war, it would have been accounted a glorious act 
of heroism. But it can scarcely be doubted that the infliction of 
capital punishment on the ringleaders in this outrage, was necessary 
to maintain the supremacy of Law and Order. — The same may be said 
of the execution of Orsini for his attempt on the life of the Emperor 
Louis Napoleon. Orsini, it is now well known, was simplv the in- 
strument of the Oarbf)nari Society to which the Emperor had belonged 
in the earlier part of his life, for inflicting the condign punishment 
decreed by its laws, as the penalty incurred by any of its members who 
failed to do everything in his power for the liberation of Italy. The 
Emperor, having been formally tried and condemned for his inaction, 
was decreed worthy of death, according to the oath which he had him- 
self taken ; and lots were cast to select the individual who should be 
charged with the execution of the sentence. The lot fell upon Orsini, who 
was summoned from Birmingham for the purpose ; and the summons 
was one (as he hinted to his friends there) which he felt that he must 
obey, though at the risk of his own life. It is clear that the Emperor 
felt no personal ill-will against him, and regarded his execution as a 
political necessity; the publication in the Moniteur of the will in 
which Orsini bequeathed to the Emperor the liberation of Italy and 
the charge of his children, being understood at the time by well- 
informed politicians as an acceptance, on the Emperor's part, of both 
legacies, of which acceptance the liberation of Italy has been the direct 
or indirect consequence. It is difficult to see in what respect Orsini's 
act of self-sacrifice, under what we may deem a mistaken sense of 
duty, was less noble than that of other patriots whom the world holds 
in honour. 

Omniscience alone can rightly assign the moral responsi • 
bility of each individual for his several acts ; the degree of 
that responsibility being determined (as in the cases cited 
under the last head) by the proportion which his Will or 
self-regulating power bears to the strength of the dominant 
motives by which he is urged in each case. This ratio, as 
already shown, will be a " general resultant " of the whole 
previous course of life ; every exercise of the Will increasing 
its vigour and controlling efficiency, while every weak con- 



Preface to the Fourth Edition. xlv 



cession to a dominant passion tends to make the individual 
its slave. And thus a man (or woman) may come at last 
so far to have lost the power of self-control, as to be 
unable to resist a temptation to what is known to be 
wrong, and to be therefore morally irresponsible for the 
particular act ; but such an individual, like the drunkard 
in the commission of violence, is responsible Jor his irrespon- 
sibility, because he has wilfully abnegated his power of 
self-control, by habitually yielding to temptations which he 
knows that he ought to have resisted. 

The Moral judgments which we form of the actions of 
other men, are necessarily as imperfect as our predictions of 
their conduct ; since no one can fully estimate the relative 
potency of heredity and environments, on the one side, and 
of the sense of duty and capacity of willing, on the other: 
and the consciousness of our own weakness in resisting the 
temptations which we feel most attractive to ourselves, should 
lead us to make large allowance for the frailties and short- 
comings of others. There are too many, who, as old Butler 
pithily said, 

** Compound for sins they are inclined to, 
** By damning those they have no mind to." 

Kindly allowance for the offender (" considering thyself, 
lest thou also be tempted") is perfectly consistent with 
reprobation of the offence. And thus the "charity" which 
*' beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all 
" things, endureth all things," is in strict accordance with 
the results of Psychological enquiry into the influences 



xlvi Preface to the Fourth Edition, 



which form the character and determine the relative 
potency of motives. 

It seems to me (as to Mr. Sidgwick, Op. cit., p. 50) quite 
clear that on the Automatist or Determinist theory, such 
words as '* ought," "duty," "responsibility," have to be 
used, if used at all, in new significations. The welfare of 
that aggregate of Automata which we call Society, may 
require that every individual automaton shall be prevented 
from doing what is injurious to it; and punishment for 
offences actually committed may be reasonably inflicted as 
a deterrent from the repetition of such offences by the indi- 
vidual or by others. But if the individual has in himself no 
power either to do the right or to avoid the wrong, and if 
the potency of that aggregate of feelings about actions as 
being "right or wrong" which is termed Conscience, 
entirely depends upon " circumstances " over which he 
neither has, or ever has had any control, I fail to see in 
what other sense he should be held " responsible " for 
doing what he knows that he " ought not " to have done, 
or for not doing what he knows that he " ought " to have 
done, than a Steam-engine, which breaks away from its 
" governor " in consequence of a sudden increase of steam- 
pressure, or which comes to a stop through the bursting of 
its steam-pipe, can be accounted responsible for the damage 
thence arising. 

The idea of " responsibility," on the other hand, which is 
entertained by Mankind at large, rests upon the assumption, 
flot only that each Ego has a Conscience which recognises 
a distinction between right and wrong-, and which (accord- 



Preface to the Fourth Edition. xlvii 



ing to the training it lias received) decides what is riglit 
and icJiat is wrong in each individual case, but also that lie 
has a Volitional power which enables him to intensify his 
sense of ^' duty " by fixing his attention upon it, and thus 
gives it a potency in determining his conduct which it might 
not have otherwise possessed. That this power is a part of 
the Ego's *^ formed character," and that it can only be 
exerted within certain limits, is fully admitted on the 
doctrine I advocate; but the responsibility of the Ego is 
shifted backwards to the share he has had in the formation 
of his character and in the determination of those limits. 
And here, again, the results of Scientific investigation are in 
complete harmony with the precepts of the greatest of all 
Eeligious Teache/s. For no one can study these with care, 
without perceiving that Jesus and Paul addressed them- 
selves rather to the formation of the Character than to the 
laying down rules for Conduct; that they endeavoured 
rather to cultivate the dispositions which should lead to 
right action, than to fix rigid lines of duty, the enforcement 
of which under other circumstances might be not only un- 
suitable but actually mischievous; and that they not only 
most fully recognised the power of each individual to direct 
the habitual course of his thoughts, to cherish his nobler 
affections, and to repress his sensual inclinations, but made 
the possession of that power the basis of the entire system 
oi' Christian Morality. 

That system has been found to harmonize with the expe- 
rience of the best and wisest of our race ; which has proved 
its capability of strengthening every virtuous effort, oiF 



xJvili Preface to the Fourth Edition. 

giving force to every noble aspiration, of aiding the re- 
sistance to the allurements of self-interest, and of keeping 
at bay the stronger temptations of vicious indulgence. The 
tendency of the Automatist philosophy, on the other hand, 
which represents Man as nothing but " a part of the great 
** series of causes and effects, which, in unbroken continuity, 
** composes that which is, and has been, and shall be — the sum 
" of existence," * seems to me to be no less certainly towards 
the discouragement of all determinate effort^ either for indivi- 
dual self-improvement, or for the general welfare of the race. 
For though it fully recognizes, as factors in Human action, 
tlie most elevated as well as the most degraded classes of 
motives, and gives all the encouragement to the culture of 
the one and to the repression of the other that faith in the 
Uniformity of Causation can afford, yet by refusing to the 
Ego any capability of y^m^^^ modifying the potency of those 
factors, it dries up the source of that sense of independence 
which springs from the conviction that Man's *^ volition counts 
" for something as a condition in the course of events," and 
leaves him a mere instrument in the hands of an inexorable 
Fate. 

To myself it seems as if nothing was wanting either in 
my own Self-consciousness, or in what I know of the con- 
scious experiences of other men, to establish the existence 
of the " self-determining power " for which I contend. I 
cannot conceive of any kind of evidence of its existence 
more cogent than that which I already possess. And feel- 
ing assured that the sources of my belief in it lie deep down 

• Prof. Huxley in "Fortnightly Eeview," Nov. 1874, p. 577. 



Preface to the Fourth Edition, xlix 

in the nature of every normally-constituted Human bemg, 
I cannot anticipate the time when that belief will be elimi- 
nated from the thought of Mankind ; — when the words 
" ought," " duty," " responsibility," " choice," " self-con- 
*' trol," and the like, will cease to have the meaning we at 
present attach to them ; — and when we shall really treat each 
other as Automata who cannot help doing whatever our 
" heredity " and " environments " necessitate. 

OSriVERSlTY OF LONDOH, 

Jum^ 1876. 



PREFACE TO FIRST EDITION. 



The following Treatise is an expansion of the C)utline of 
Psj^cliology contained in the Fourth and Fifth Editions of 
my " Principles of Human Physiology " (1852 and 1855), 
but omitted from the later editions of that work, to make 
room for new matter more strictly Physiological. The 
appreciation of that Outline expressed at the time by several 
friends to whose opinions I attached great value, made me 
contemplate the separate reproduction of it, at some future 
date, in an enlarged form : but the fulfilment of that 
intention has been delayed, in the first instance, by the 
pressure of Official duties; and, since this has been 
lightened, by the diversion of all the time and thought I 
could spare into an entirely difierent line of Scientific 
investigation. That investigation, however, having been 
taken in hand by Her Majesty's Government for systematic 
prosecution by the " Challenger" Expedition, I found myself 
free to entertain a proposal made to me by the projectors 
of the " International Scientific Series," to republish my 
Outline in an enlarged form, as one of their Popular 
Treatises. 

Not having seen reason to make any important change in 



lii Preface. 

my own Psychological views since I first put them forward, 
but, on the contrary, having found them confirmed and 
extended by the experience and reflection of twenty years, 
I set myself to revise my former exposition of them, with the 
idea of simply introducing such illustrations as might lead to 
the more ready apprehension of the principles I aimed to 
enforce, and of filling-up such deficiencies as it might seem 
most desirable to supply. But, as I proceeded with the 
work, I found it grow under my hands ; and it has at last 
so far exceeded the limits originally contemplated, as to 
become unsuitable to the Series for which it had been 
designed, from which it has been accordingly withdrawn, 
for issue .as an independent Treatise. 

I now send it forth as a contribution to that Science of 
Human Nature, which has yet (as it seems to me) to be 
built-up on a much broader basis than any Philosopher has 
hitherto taken as his foundation. To the character of a System 
of Psychology, this treatise makes no pretension whatever ; 
being simply designed to supplement existing Systems of 
Physiology and Metaphysics, by dealing with a group of 
subjects, which, occupying the border-ground between the 
two, have been almost entirely neglected in both. Hence, 
in treating of Sensation, I have not entered into those details 
on the Physiology of the Senses which are readily accessible 
elsewhere ; but have especially applied myself to the eluci- 
dation of the share which the Mind has, not only in the 
interpretation of Sense-impressions, but in the production 
of Sensorial states not less real to the Ego who expe- 
riences them than are those called-forth by external objects, 



Preface, liii 

— a topic of the greatest importance in reference to tlie value 
of all Testimony given under a Mental preconception. And, 
in like manner, I have done no more than enumerate 
ft large proportion of those principal modes of Mental 
activity, which are commonly designated as Intellectual 
Faculties, Propensities, and Emotions ; in order that I might 
have space to bring into clear view that distinction between 
their automatic and their volitional operation, which has 
long appeared to me the only sound basis, on the one hand, 
for Education and Self-discipline, and, on the other, for 
that Scientific study of the various forms of abnormal 
Mental activity, which, rightly cultivated, is probably the 
most promising field of Psychological inquiry. 

Although the doctrine of automatic Mental activity is 
here presented in a Physiological form, it may be fully 
accepted, and turned to practical account, by such as repu- 
diate in toto the idea that Thought and Feeling can be 
regarded as the expression of Brain-change. This is evident 
from the entire accordance which exists between Sir William 
Hamilton and Mr. John S. Mill as to the phenomena which 
I have grouped together under the term " Unconscious 
Cerebration ; " though the former states them in terms of 
Metaphysics, and the latter in terms of Physiology. 

It will, I doubt not, be considered by many, that there 
is a palpable inconsistency between the two fundamental 
(h)ctrines which are here upheld ; — that of the dependence of 
the AQtomatic activity of the Mind upon conditions which 
bring it within the nexus of Physical Causation ; and that 
of the existence of an independent Power, controlling and 



iiv Preface, 

directing that activity, which we call Will*. I can only 
Bay that both are equally true to my own consciousness ; as 
1 believe they are to the common consciousness of Mankind. 
I cannot regard myself, either Intellectually or Morally^ 
tts a mere puppet, pulled by suggesting-strings ; any more 
than I can &regard that vast body of Physiological evi- 
dence, which proves the direct and immediate relation 
between Mental and Corporeal agency. The same difficulty 
(if it be a difficulty) is experienced by some of the greatest 
thinkers of the day. Thus even John S. Mill, the most 
powerful advocate of Automatism, found himself brought 
by his own Mental experiences to what is virtually an 
acceptance of the independence of the Will : — " I saw," 
he says {Autobiography^ p. 169), "that though our 
"• character is formed by circumstances, our own desires can 
*^do much to shape those circumstances; and that what is 
" really inspiriting and ennobling in the doctrine of free 
'' will, is the conviction that we have real power over the 
"formation of our own character; that our will, by influencing 

* The two doctrines seem to me to have been more clearly presented by 
Hartley, than by any other Writer: — "By the Mechanism of human 
Actions, I mean that each action results from the previous circumstances 
of Body and Mind, in the same manner, and with the same certainty, as 
other effects do from their mechanical causes ; so that a person cannot do 
indifferently either the action A, or its coutri«ry a, while the previous 
circumstances are the same; but is under an absohite Necessity of 
doinj; one of them, and that only. Agreeably to this I suppose, that by 
Fieo-will is meant a Power of doing either the action A, or its contrary a, 
wliile the previous circumstances remain the same." — {On Man, Conclusion 
to Part L, This simple and definite issue has been greatly obscured by 
the attempts which have been made on both sides to evade it ; but it is 
one which had much better be faced openly and directly. Are we, oi 
ere we not, altogether what " circumstances" make us ? 



Preface, . Iv 

" some of our circumstances, can modify our future habits 
*' or capacities of willing." On the other hand, Archbishop 
Manning and Mr. Martineau, who may be considered as 
typical Metaphysicians, and who hold the Freedom of the 
Will as a fundamental article of their Eeligious and Ethical 
creeds, seem not less satisfied than myself, that our suc- 
cession of Thoughts and Feelings is in great degree deter- 
mined bj^ antecedent conditions, which are intimately related 
to those of our Physiological Mechanism. 

That these two Agencies must both be accepted as funda- 
mental facts of Man's composite nature, which can only 
be viewed aright in their mutual relation, is, I believe, 
a conclusion towards which there is now a general con- 
vergence amongst intelligent thinkers, whose minds are not 
trammelled by System, or obscured by the dust that has been 
so continually raised in philosophical discussion. A better 
type of such thinkers could be scarcely found than the late 
Charles Buxton ; who, looking at the subject from a point 
of view very different from mine, expressed himself in lan- 
guage almost identical with that which I had used (pp. 2, 3), 
as to the necessity of no longer attempting to keep apart in 
our Scientific investigations that which Nature has so insepar- 
ably united : — " Irresistible, undeniable facts demonstrate 
" that man is not a den wherein two enemies are chained 
** together ; but one being — that soul and body are one — ono 
*' and indivisible. We had better face this great fact. 'Tis 
" qo good to blink it. Our knowledge of Physiology has 
"come to a point where the old idea of Man's consti- 
'^ tution must be thrown aside. To struggle against the 



Ivi Preface. 

" overwhelming force of science, under the notion of shield- 
" ing religion, is mere folly." — {Notes of Thought, p. 266). 

These well-considered conclusions of a deeply-religious 
mind may be specially commended to the consideration of 
those, who may be disposed to condemn without examina- 
tion anything that savours of a "Materialism" which they 
have been accustomed to regard as philosophically absurd 
and morally detestable. And those who assume that a 
Physiological Psychology strikes at the root of Morals 
and Eeligion, may be fearlessly asked to show in what a 
system which leaves the Will of Man free to make the best 
use he can of the Intellectual and Moral capacities with which 
his Bodily Organism has been endowed by his Creator, and 
which gives him the strongest and noblest motives both for 
Self-discipline and for Philanthropic exertion, is unworthy 
of the nature and destiny of the being whose creation ^'in 
the image of God " can have no higher meaning than his 
capacity for infinite progress. 

It would be ungrateful were I not to take this opportunity 
of renewing the expression of the special obligations I owe, 
in the original construction of my "fabric of thought" on 
this great subject, to the writings and conversation of my 
valued friends the late Sir Henry Holland, Professor Lay- 
cock, Dr. J. D. Morell, and Dr. Koble.— To the first k)1 
these it had been my intention to dedicate this Treatise, the 
title of wliich he had kindly permitted me to borrow from 
one of his own ; and I have gladly, therefore, complied with 
the wish of his Family, that I should dedicate it to his 



Preface, Ivii 

Memory. No one can know the wonderful suggestiveness 
of Sir H. Holland's scientific writings, who has not had 
the occasion (which has often occurred to myself) to trace 
back to them some of the best of the thoughts which ho 
had honestly believed to be his own. This I have fonnd 
particularly the case in regard to the subject of Attention : 
the fundamental importance of which in relation to the 
Will, I first learned from him to appreciate. 

Other obligations to later writers on Psychology are noted 
in their proper places : but all the general doctrines of 
importance herein set forth, will be found, I believe, either 
explicitly stated or clearly indicated in my original Outline; 
and in their fuller development I have preferred to draw 
either upon my own mental experience and that of others, 
or upon that very large group of abnormal phenomena, 
which has not yet (so far as I am aware) been discussed 
by any professed Psychologist, but of which the careful study 
seems to me absolutely essential to a due understanding of 
the relation of the Will to the Automatic activity of the Mind, 
and of both to the Physiological Mechanism. Some apology 
may be thought due for the introduction of so many old 
and familiar illustrations; and especially for such numerous 
citations from the well-known work of Dr. Abercrombie on 
*'The Intellectual Powers." But I have not hesitated to 
bring in old stories whenever they were specially to the 
point ; and I believe that in many instances I have been 
able to give them an entirely new application. 

In conclusion I venture to ask for a fair measure of in- 
dulgence for such errors and shortcomings (especially on 



Iviii Preface, 



the Psychological side) as will doubtless be discovered in 
this Treatise ; on the ground that it has been impossible 
for me to devote to it that continuous thought, which is 
especially required for the systematic prosecution of anj 
inquiry of this kind, and for the exposition of its results. 
Had I kept the work back longer in the hope of a more 
favourable opportunity for its production, I might have 
altogether lost, with the advance of years, the power of 
producing it. Such as it is, I offer it, on the one hand, 
to those who are interested in the progress of Psychological 
Science, and are disposed to widen its area of investigation ; 
and, on the other, to those who desire a definite basis and 
aim in the Intellectual and Moral training either of others 
or themselves ; — with the hope that I may at any rate 
stimulate some other investigator to follow- out the path 
1 have tried to open, who shall bring to the Scientific 
interpretation of Physiological phenomena a knowledge of 
Metaphysics to which I can lay no claim, and a Mind better 
trained in abstract thought. 



CONTENTS. 



BOOK I. 

OENEEAL PHYSIOLOGY. 



CHAPTER I. 
Op the General Relations between Mind and Body. 

Prevalent neglect of the study, 1, 2 ; Materialistic hypothesis, 2-5 ; Self« 
determining power, 5, 6 ; Spiritualistic hypothesis, 7-9 ; Truths and Errors in 
both, 10, 11 ; their reconcilement by the doctrine of Correlation between Mind and 
Force, 11-14 ; Physiological Mechanism, 15 ; Volitional and Automatic Move- 
tiients of Body, 15-24 ; Automatic Activity of Mind, 25-28 ; Attention th« 
foundation of Volitional power, 25 ; mode of its exercise, 26-28. 

CHAPTER II. 
Of the Nervous System and its Functions. 

1. Relation of the Nervous System to the Body generally : — Apparatus of 
Animal Life, 29 ; Apparatus of Organic Life, 30, 31 ; Relations of the two, 31, 32. 

2. Elementary Structure of the Nervous Sj/stem : — Nerve-trunks and Ganglia, 
32, 33 ; Nerve-fibres, 33-36 ; Nerve-cells, 35-37 ; Afferent and Motor fibres, 37, 
38 ; dependence of Nervous power on supply of Oxygenated Blood, 38-40. 

3. Different Forms and Modes of Action of Nervous Apparatus :—'&\va^]es% 
type of Animal life, 41-44 ; Building actions of Rhizopods, 43 ; Nervous System 
of Ascidian, 45, 46 ; Reflex Action, 46-48 ; Nervous System of higher Molhisks, 
49, 50 ; of Articulata, 51-53 ; Reflex Actions, 53-56 ; Instinctive Actions of 
Jusects, 56-61 ; Nervous System of Vertebrata, 61-64 ; of Fishes, 65, 66 ; of 
Ptcptiles, 67, 68 ; Reflex Action, 68-79 ; Nervous System of Birds, 79 ; their 
Instincts and Intelligence, 80-90 ; Nervous System of Mammals, 91-105 ; Nerves 
of Internal Senses, 99, 111-113 ; Distinctive Attributes of Man, 105-108 ; Relntion 
of Cerebrum to Sensorium, 108-116; Convolutions of Cerebrum, 116, 117. 

4. General Summary : — Functional Relations of the Gavglionic Centres of the 
Cerebro'Spinui System of Man, 118-125; Sympathetic System, 125-129. 



'•X Co7itents, 



CHAPTER III. 

Of Attention. 

Active recipiency of Impressions, 130-132 ; Volitional or Automatic, 132, 153 ; 
Education of Attention, 133-136; Attention to Sense-impressions, 137 ; Suspensioa 
of Pain by diversion of Attention, 138-140 ; increase in Discriminative power, 
141; effects of limitation, 142, 143; effects of concentration on Bodily organti, 
144, 145 ; direction to higher Mental states, 146, 147. 

CHAPTER IV. 

Of Sensation. 

Consciousness of external Impressions, 148 ; General and Special, 149 ; its locali- 
zation, 149-151 ; its dependence on Circulation, 151 ; its diminution or exaltation, 
152, 153 ; not absolute, but relative, 154 ; Subjective Sensations, 155, 156 ; 
their production by Mental pre -conceptions, 157-159 ; Mr. Braid's experiments, . 
160-164 ; Spectral Illusions, 165-167 ; Relation of Sensations to other Mental 
States, 168-171 ; Feelings of Pain or Pleasure, 171-173 ; other simple states of 
Feeling, 173-175. 

CHAPTER V. 

Of Perception and Instinct. 

Recognition of Objective source of Sense-impressions, 176-178 ; Instinctive 
perceptions of lower Animals, 179 ; Perceptions acquired in Man, 180, 181 ; their 
immediateness and permanence, 182; Attention required, 182-184; their Auto- 
matic nature, 184 ; Sense of Direction, 185 ; Singleness of Image, 186, 187 ; 
Appreciation of Form, 187, 188 ; of Solid Form (stereoscopic), 189-199 ; of 
Distance, 199-201 ; of Size, 201-203 ; effect of Attention, 204-206 ; False Per- 
ceptions, 206-209 ; Instinctive Feelings, 209-213 ; Instinctive Movements in Man, 
213-219 ; Walking, 213-215 ; Vocalization, 216, 216 ; Special Acquirements, 
217 ; Movements of Expression, 218. 

CHAPTER VI. 
Of Ideation and Ideo-Motor Action. . 

1. Of Ideation generally : — Mental representation of Objects, 220-222; Signi* 
?a'ation of Ideas by Language, 223-225 ; Primary Beliefs, 226 ; Progressi\ra 
evolution of Intuitions, 227-230 ; Numerical Faculty, 230-235 ; Musical Faculty, 
235-240 ; Elementary Notions, 241, 242 ; Moral Sense, 243-245 ; Religioua 
Sense, 246, 247 ; Sense of Duty, 248, 249. 

2. Siiccession of Ideas ; Laivs of Thought: — Automatic Uniformities, 249-251; 
Laws of Association, 251-260; Contiguity, 252, 253; Similarity, 253-255; 
Classification and Induction, 255, 256 ; Deduction, 256, 257 ; Constructive 



Contents. Ixi 



A^ociation, 258-260 ; Reasoning Power, 260-262 ; Volitional direction of Intellec- 
tual operations, 262-264 ; Automatic Succession, in CHldhood, 26-1, 265 : in 
Coleridge, 266-270 ; in Mozart, 271-275 ; Volitional control in Southey, 276 ; in 
Haydn, 277, 278. 

3. Idto-Motor ^ic^iow;— Reflex Actions of Cerebrum, 279 ; the expressions of 
Dominant Ideas, 280-282 ; Expectant Attention 282 ; suspended buttons, 283-288 ; 
Divining-rod, 288-291 ; Table-turning, 292-297 ; Table-taMng, 297-306 ; Spirit- 
rapping, 307-311; Mesmerism, 311; Epidemic Delusions, 312; Dancing Mania, 
313-314 ; Imitative Actions, 315. 

CHAPTER VII. 

Of the Emotions. 

Composite nature of Emotional states, 316-319 ; Emotional Movements, 319, 
320 ; differentiated from Volitional, 321 ; influence of Emotions on course of 
Thought, 322, 323 ; vent given by Action to excited Feelings, 324-326 ; their 
efi"ect on Volitional exertion, 327-330 ; Volitional Control over Emotions, 330, 
331 ; its acquirement, 331-336. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Of Habit. 

Physiological relations of Habit, 337-343 ; Mental Habits, formed by Associa- 
tion, 343-350 ; Good and Bad Habits, 350 ; Importance of early right-direction, 
351, 352 ; Moral Atmosphere of Nursery, 353 ; Order and Regularity, 353-356 ; 
Sense of Duty, 356, 357 ; Right and Justice, 357-359 ; Love, 360, 361 ; Influence 
of N({,uos, 362-364 ; Change of Tendencies with Age, 365 ; Control of Habits by 
Will, 366, 367 ; Hereditary Transmission, 367, 368 ; Constitutional Taints, 369, 
37o ; Acquired modes of Movement, 371-373 ; Mental aptitudes, 374, 375. 

CHAPTER IX. 

Of the Will. 

1. Influence of the Will on Bodily Movement. — Relation of Volitional to Auto- 
matic Action, 376-378 ; Physiological distinction between Voluntary and Involun* 
tary MoUons, 379 ; sources and conditions of Nerve-force, 380-384 ; LocaJ 
Hypersemia of C/srebnim, 384 ; Paralysis of Will, 385, 386. 

2. Influence of the Will on Mental Action: — Selective Attention, 386, 387; 
consciousness of Eff"ort, 387-390 ; Volitional guidance of Thought essential to 
Common Sense judgments, 390, 391 : Contrast between Volitional and Automatic 
Mental Action, 392-395. 

3. Influence of the Will on the Formation of Beliefs : — Automatic Acceptance 
or Rejection of Propositions, 395-399 ; Influence of the Will in Discussion, 399- 
403 ; Influence of nJ^os, 403 ; Principal Tendenciee to Thought, 404-407 J 
Search for Truth, 407 : Nature of Truth. 408-413. 



ixii Contents. 



4. Irtfluenve of the Will on the Direction of the Conduct .•—Motive Powera 
413-416; modifying influences, 416, 4l7 ; Regulative Action of Will, 418-423; 
Determinate attention, 423 ; Physiological condition of Volitional exertion, 421, 
425 ; different Directions of Yolitional Power, 425-428. 



BOOK 11. 
SPECIAL PHYSIOLOGY, 



CHAPTER X. 
Of Memory. 



Reproduction of past states of Consciousness, 429-431 ; of Sensorial states, 431' 
433 ; its Automatic character, 434-436 ; Physical nature of Recording process, 
436-441 ; dependence of Reproductive power on Physical conditions, 441-454 
impairment of, by Old Age, Disease, and Injury, 442-448 ; Assimilating process, 
449, 450 ; Time required for, 450-454 ; Recognition of reproduced state, 454 
Sense of Personal Identity, 455 ; Fallacies of Memory, 456-459 ; Double Con 
Bciousness, 4n9 ; remarkable case of, 460-465 ; Volitional Recollection, 466-469 
Culture of the Memory, 470. 

CHAPTER XI. 

Op Common Sense. 

Judgment of things Self-evident, 471 ; universal Common Sense, 472 ; ordi- 
nary Common Sense, 472 ; its genesis, 473-479 ; analogy to Secondarily automatic 
actions of Body, 473-476 ; culture of, 477-479 ; special Common Sense, 479, 480 ; 
Common-Sense Judgments in ordinary life, 481-483 ; ** Progress of Rationaliem," 
484, 485 ; Letter from Mr. J. S. Mill, 486. 

CHAPTER XII. 
Op Imagination, 

Image-making power, 487 ; Constructive Imagination, 488 ; essentially Auto<< 
matic, but directed and controlled by Will, 489-496; Improvisation, 492-496; 
Fancy, 496-498 ; Wit, 498-501 ; Humour, 501-503 ; Creative Imagination, 603 j 
Characteristics of Genius, 503-513 ; Moral Insight, 505, 506 ; Mechanical Inven- 
tion, 507, 508 ; Culture of Gfenius, 508-511 ; its essentially Automatic character, 
610, 53 1 ; directing and controlling power of WiU, 511-513 ; Appreciative powe» 
eapable of culture, 513, 514. 



Contents. Ixiii 



CHAPTER XIII. 
Of Unconscious Cerebration. 

Heflex Action of Cerebrum, 515-517 ; Sir William Hamilton's "Latent Mental 
Modifications," 518 ; J. S. Mill's criticism, 519 ; its Action in Eecollection, 520- 
523 ; in Plan cLette- writing and Table-talking, 524-526 ; in Writing and Music- 
playing, 526, 527 ; in Reasoning processes, 527-531 ; in Judgments, 531-533 ; in 
Mental production, 533, 534 ; in Invention, 534-539 ; in Emotional states, 539, 
540 ; Unconscious Influences, 541, 542 ; Persistence of Latent Impressions, 
542, 543. 

CHAPTER XIV. 
Of Reverie and Abstraction: — Electro-Biology. 

Suspension of controlling Will, 544 ; Poetic Reverie, 544 ; Philosopher's 
Abstraction, 545 ; Absence of Mind, 546, 547 ; Intermediate states between Sleep 
and Waking, 548. 

Induced Reverie, 548-550 ; Electro- Biology, 550, 551 ; influence of Dominant 
Ideas, 551-553 ; no special influence of Operator, 553, 554 ; Effects of Sugges- 
tion, 554 ; on Muscular movements, 555-557 ; on Sensations, 557-560 ; on higher 
Mental states, 561 ; Change of Personality, 562, 563 ; parallel to Insanity, 563 : 
Mental Travelling, 564 ; Induction of Sleep, 565-567. 



CHAPTER XV. 
Of Sleep, Dreaming, and Somnambulism. 

Complete Suspension of Sensorial activity, 568 ; not inconsistent with Auto- 
matic Movement, 569 ; result of Physical Exhaustion, 570 ; diminished activity of 
Brain-circulation, 571-574 ; Conditions predisposing to Sleep, 574-576 ; Transi- 
•-ional states, 577, 578 ; influence of previous Expectation, 579 ; Awakening power 
of Sense-impressions, 580-583. 

Cerebral activity in Dreaming, 584 ; suspension of Volitional control, 584 ; of 
Common Sense, 585 ; of Moral Sense, 586 ; Recovery of lost traces of past Events, 
587, 588 ; Rapidity of Mental action, 588, 589 ; influence of External impressions, 
689^591. 

Somnambulism, an acted Dream, 591, 592 ; Trains of Thought sometimes con- 
sistent and complete, 593-595 ; Limitation of Sense-perception, 595-599; Direc- 
"iion of acted Dream by Suggestion, 600. 

Hypnotism an artificially-induced state of Somnambulism, 601 ; Concentratiou 



Ixiv Contents, 



of Attention, 602 ; influence of Muscular Association, 603-605 ; Exaltation 
of Muscular power, 606; of Sensibility, 607; influence on Organic action, 
608-610. * ^ 

CHAPTER XVI. 
Of Mesmerism and Spiritualism. 

What to Believe, 611 ; different Phases of Belief, 612-616 ; elucidation by Mr. 
Braid's researches, 616, 617; mode of induction of Mesmeric state, 618; no 
Bpecial Mesmeric influence, 619, 621 ; effect of Expectation, 621-623 ; Nature of 
rapport, 623-625. 

Classification of Phenomena, 626 ; parallelism to those of Electro-Biology and 
Somnambulism, 627, 628 ; Table- talking, Planchette-writing, Spirit-dra-w iug, 
&c., 628, 629; Revelations of Mediums and Clairvoyants, 629, 630; Self- 
deception, 630, 631 ; Credibility of Testimony, 632-634 ; Epidemic Delusions, 
634, 635. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Op Intoxication and Delirium. 

Excess of Automatic activity, with Diminution of Volitional control, 636, 637 ; 
Phenomena of Hachisch-intoxication, 637-644 ; of Opium-intoxication, 645-648 ; 
Of Alcoholic-intoxication, 649, 650 ; parallelism to Insanity, 651, 652 ; Moral per- 
version from prolonged excess, 653 ; Delirium of Disease, 654; Influence of 
Suggestion on its course, 655 ; Delirium Tremens, 655, 656. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 
Op Insanity. 

Persistence of disordered Mental Action, 657, 658 ; its dependence on Physical 
conditions, 658-660 ; Mania, 660, 661 ; Intellectual disorder, 661, 662 ; Emo- 
tional disorder, 663, 664 ; Monomania, 664-674 ; Emotional origin of Delusions, 
668-671 ; Treatment of Insanity, 674, 675. 



CHAPTER XIX. 
Influence op Mental States on the Organic Functions. 

Action of Mind through Sympathetic System, 676 ; Vaso-motor Nerves, 677 ; 
Secretions affected by Emotions, 677-681 ; Nutrition affected by Emotional states, 
681-684 ; Cure of Disease by Expectancy, 684-688 ; influence of Religious Impres- 
gions. 684-670 ; Stigmatization, 689, 690, 



Contents. Ixv 



CHAPTER XX. 

Op Mind and Will in Nature. 

Respective provinces of Science and Religion, 691 ; Laws of Nature, theij 
Scientific meaning, 692, 693 ; Causation distinguished into Dynamical agency 
and Material collocation, 693-695 ; Correlation of Forces, 696 ; Unity and 
Uniformity of Power, 697 ; Science and Theology, 698, 699 ; Idea of First 
Cause, 700 ; Pantheism and Anthropomorphism, 701-702 ; no Antagonism 
between Law and Will, 703-706 ; Analogy of Paternal Government, 707 ; 
Haimony between Science and Religion, 707, 708. 



APPENDIX. 
Dr. Ferrier's Experimental Researches on the Brain. 

Effects of application of Electric stimulation to Cortical layer of Cerebrum, 709 ; 
its induction of Hyperamic state, 710 ; production of Epileptic Convulsion by 
general excitement, 711 ; production of definite Movements of Expression by 
localized application to particular Convolutions, 712-714 ; results of its applica- 
tion to Corpora Striata, Thalami Optici, and Corpora Quadrigemina, 715 ; to 
Cerebellum, 715, 716 ; Inferences deducible from these Experiraenta, 717-722. 



BOOK I. 

GENERAL PHYSIOLOGY. 



CHAPTER L 

OF THE GENERAL RELATIONS BETWEEN MII.'D AND BODY. 

1. The Conscious Life of every individual Man essentially consists 
ir an action and reaction between his Mind and all that is outside 
It, — the Ugo and the Non-Ego. But this action and re-action can- 
not take place, in his present stage of existence, without the inter- 
vention of a Material Instrument ; whose function it is to bridge 
over the hiattis between the individual Consciousness and the 
External World, and thus to bring them into mutual communica- 
tion. And it is the object of this Treatise to take up and extend 
*che inquiry into the action of Body upon Mind, as well as of Mind 
upon Body, on the basis of our existing knowledge ; so as to 
elucidate, as far as may be at present possible, the working of that 
Physiological Mechanism which takes a most impoi*tant share in 
our Psychical operations ; and thus to distinguish what may be 
called the automatic activity of the Mind, from that which ia 
under volitional direction and control. — This inquiry has been 
started more than once, but has not until recently been systemati- 
cally prosecuted. " There is one view of the connection between 
Mind and Matter," says Prof. Dugald Stewart, '* which is perfectly 
agreeable to the just rules of philosophy. The object of this is, 
to ascertain the laws which regulate their union, without attempt- 



2 General Relations of Mind and Body. 

ing to explain in what manner they are united. Lord Bacon was, 
I believe, the tirst who gave a d.stinct idea of this kind of specu- 
lation \ and I do not know that much progress has yet been 
Eiade in it." Considering his own province, however, to be purely 
Metaphysical, the eminent Professor just quoted gave no further 
attention to the subject ; and those who have more recently taken 
it up, having for the most part been Physi(3logists and Physicians, 
rather than professed Psychologists, have been too often looked 
upon by the latter as opponents rather than as allies. But so long 
as either the Mental or the Bodily part of Man's nature is studied 
to the exclusion of the other, it seems to the Writer that no real 
progress can be made in Psychological Science ; for that which 
" God hath joined together,*' it must be vain for Man to try to 
• put asunder." 

2. To the prevalent neglect of the study of the mutual relations 
of Mind and Body, may be traced many of the fallacies discernible 
in the arguments adduced on each side, in the oft- repeated con- 
troversies between the advocates of the Materialistic and the 
Spiritualistic hypotheses ; — controversies in themselves almost as 
absurd as that mortal contest, which (as ftible tells us) was once 
carried on by two knights respecting the material of a shield seen 
by them from opposite sides, the one maintaining it to be made of 
gold, the other of silver, and each proving to be in the right as 
regarded the half seen by himself. Now the Moral of this fable, 
as respects our present inquiry, is, that as the entire shield was 
really made-up of a gold-half and a silver-half which Joined each 
other midway, so the Mind and the Brain, notwithstanding those 
differences in properties which place them in different philosophical 
categories, are so intimately blended in their actions, that more 
valuable information is to be gained by seeking for it at the pon.ts 
of contact, than can be obtained by the prosecution of those older 
fi}ethods of research, in which the Mind has been studied by Meta- 
physicians altcgether without reference to its material instrument^ 



Materialistic Hypothesis. 



whilst the Brain has been dissected by Anatomists and analyzed 
by Chemists, as if they expected to map-out the course of Thought, 
or to weigh or measure the intensity of Emotion. The Psycho* 
legist who looks at his subject in the light of that more advanced 
Philosophy of the present day, which regards Matter merely as the 
veliicle of Force, has no difficulty in seeing where both sets of dis» 
put ants were right and both wrong ; and, laying the foundations 
of his Science broad and deep in the whole constitution -f the 
individual Man and his relations to the Universe external to him, 
aims to build it up with the materials furnished by experience of 
every kind. Mental and Bodily, normal and abnormal, — ignoring no 
fact, however strange, that can be attested by valid evidence, and 
accepting none, however authoritatively sanctioned, that will not 
stand the test of thorough scrutiny. 

3. Although few (if any) Philosophers would be disposed to 
question that the Brain is the instrument of our higher Psychical 
powers, the ideas which are entertained of the nature of this 
instrumentality have been seldom clearly or consistently defined. 
Some, who have attended exclusively to the close relationship 
which indubitably exists between Corporeal and Mental states, 
have thought that all the operations of the Mind are but mani- 
festations or expressions of material changes in the Brain : — that 
thus Man is but a tliinldng machine, his conduct being entirely 
determined by his original constitution', modified by subsequent 
conditions over which he has no control, and his fancied power of 
self-direction being altogether a delusion ; — and hence that notions 
of duty or responsibility have no real foundation, Man's character 
being formed for him, and not by him, and his mode of action in 
each individual case being simply the consequence of the reaction 
of his Brain upon the impressions which called it into play. On 
this creed, what is commonly termed Criminality is but one form 
of Insanity, and ought to be treated as such j Insanity itself is 
Qothing else than a d.sordered action of the Brain ; and th« 



4 Gc?ie7^al Relations of Mind and Body. 

highest elevation of Man's 'psychical nature is to be attained by 
due attention to all the conditions which favour his phi/sical 
developraent. 

The most thorouj^h-going expression of this doctrine will be found 
iTi the. " Letters on the Laws of Man's Nature and Development,*' by 
Benry G. Atkinson and Harriet Martineau. A few extracts will 
suffice to show the character of this system of Philosophy. '* Instinct, 
passion, thought, &c., are effects of organized substances." "All 
causes are material causes." ** In material conditions I find the 
origin of all religions, all philosophies, all opinions, all virtues, all 
* spiritual conditions and influences,' in the same manner that I find 
the origin of all diseases and of all insanities in material conditions 
and causes." **I am what I am ; a creature of necessity ; I claim 
neither merit nor demerit." *' I feel that I am as completely the 
result of my nature, and impelled to do what I do, as the needle to 
point to the north, or the puppet to move according as the string is 
pulled." " I cannot alter my will, or be other than what I am, and 
cannot deserve either reward or punishment." 

It seems to the Writer that everj'- system of Philosophy which 
regards the succession of Mental Phenomena as determined solely 
by the ordinary laws of Physical Causation, and which rejects the 
self-deterviining power of the Will (or, which is the same thing, 
regards the Will as only another expression for the 'prepon- 
derance of Motives, or as the general resultant of the action of 
the Physiological Mechanism), virtually leads to the same 
conclusion. 

4. Now this honestly-expressed Materialistic doctrine recognises 
certain great facts, as to which the unprejudiced and obser- 
vant Physiologist can entertain no doubt ; notwithstanding that 
tlieir validit}'- may be denied by those who have had compara(ivoly 
little opportunity of studying them, or who have so made up their 
minds to a foregone conclusion, as to be ready to admit nothing 
which is not in accordance with it. The whole series of phenomena 
which so plainly mark the influence of the Body on the Mind, of 
physical upui psychical states, —the obvious iependence of the 



Self 'deter mining Power. 



normal activity of the Mind upon the healthful nutrition of the 
Hrain, and upon its due supply of Oxygenated Blood, — the effect 
of Intoxicating agents and of Morbid Poisons in perverting that 
activity, and especially in withdrawing the " Mechanism of Thought 
a)id Feeling" from Volitional control, — the remarkable influencp 
of local affections of the Brain, traceable in some cases to defective 
btipply of blood, in others to blows on the head, in producing 
strange disturbances of Memory, — the large share which certain 
states of bodily disorder on the part of Parents, or conditions 
tending to induce defective nutrition during the periods of Infancy 
and Childhood, have been proved to possess in the induction of 
Idiocy and Cretinism, — the distinct Hereditary Transmission of 
ncquired habits^ which, modifying the Bodily constitution of the 
Parent, repeat themselves in that which he communicates to 
his Offspring, — these and numerous other phenomena (hereafter 
to be considered) might be cited in support of the Materialistic 
doctrine, and must be taken account of by any one who 
would seek the solution of this mystery. 

5. But these phenomena are not to be looked-at to the exclusion 
of the facts of our own internal Consciousness. In reducing the 
Thinking Man to the level of " a puppet that moves according as 
its strings are pulled," the Materialistic Philosopher places himsel f 
in complete antagonism to the positive conviction, which — like 
tiiat of the existence of an External World — is felt by every right- 
minded Man who does not trouble himself by speculating upon the 
matter, that he really does possess a self-determining power, whicij 
c«n rise above all the promptings of Suggestion, and can, 
within certain limits (§ 25), mould external circumstances to 
its own requirements, instead of being completely Bubjugatei 
Ijy them. 

The Writer entirely agrees with Archbishop Manning, in main- 
taining that we have exactly the same evidence of the existence of 
this self- determining power 'juithin ourselves^ that jve have of the 



6 General Relations of Mind and Body, 

existence of a material world outside ourselves, Eor however inti- 
mate may be the functional correlation between Mind and Brain 
(§§ 11, 12), — and Archbishop Manning seems disposed to go as 
far as the Writer in recognizing this intimacy — ' ' there is still 
another faculty, and more than this, another Agent, distinct from 
the thinking brain." ♦ • * ** That we are conscious of Thought 
and Will, is a fact of our internal experience. It is a fact also of 
the universal experience of all men ; this is an immediate and 
intuitive truth of absolute certainty. Dr. Carpenter lays down as 
an axiomatic truth * that the Common-sense decision of Mankind, in 
regard to the existence of an External World, is practically worth 
more than all the arguments of all the logicians who have discussed 
the basis of our belief in it.' What is true in this case of a judg- 
ment formed upon the report of Sense, by the interpretation of the 
Intellect, is still more evidently true of the decisions of our Con- 
sciousness on such interior facts as Thought or Will, and of the 
existence of an Internal World which is our living Personality, the 
Agent who thinks and wills. I may therefore lay it down as 
another axiom, side by side with that of Dr. Carpenter, that the 
decision of Mankind, derived from consciousness of the existence of 
our living self or personality, whereby we think, will, or act, is prac- 
tically worth more than all the arguments of all the logicians who 
have discussed the basis of our belief in it." [Contemporary Beview, 
Peb. 1871, p. 469.) 

We can scarcely desire a better proof that our possession of thia 
power is a reality and not a self-delusion, than is afforded by the 
comparison of the normal condition of the Mind with those various 
abnormal conditions hereafter to be described (Chaps. XIV. — XVI.) 
in which the directing power of the Will is in abeyance. For the 
" subjects " of these conditions may really be considered (so long 
as they remain in them) as mere thinking Automata, puppf:ts 
pulled by directing-strings ; their whole course of thought and of 
action being determined by Suggestions conveyed from without, and 
their own Will having no power to modify or direct this, owing to 
the temporary suspension of its influence. — To w^hatever extent, 
then, we may be ready to admit the dependence of our Mental 



spiritualistic Hypothesis. 



0|jeratioiis upon the organization and functional activity of our 
Nervous System, we must also admit that there is something beyond 
and above all this, to which, in the fully-developed and self-regu- 
lating Intellect, that activity is subordinated : whilst, in rudely 
trampling on the noblest conceptions of our Moral Nature as mere 
dfilusicns the purely Materialistic hypothesis is so thoroughly re- 
pugnant to the intuitive convictions of Mankind in general, that 
those who really experience these are made tofeeliis fallacy, with 
a certainty that renders logical proof unnecessary. 

6. Let us turn now to the opposite doctrine held by Spiritualists * 
in regard to the nature and source of Mental phenomena; and 
consider this in its Physiological relations. To them the Mind 
appears in the light of a separate Immaterial existence, mysteriously 
connected, indeed, with a Bodily instrument, but not dependent 
upon this in any other way for the conditions of its operation, than 
as deriving its knowledge of external things through its Organs of 
Sense, and as making use of it to execute its determinations — so far 
as these aie accomplished by Muscular effort. On this hypothesis, 
the operations of the Mind itself, having no dependence whatever 
on those of Matter, are never themselves affected by conditions of 
the Bodily organism ; whose irregularities or defects of activity only 
pervert or obscure the outward manifestations of the Mind, just as 
the light of the brightest lamp may be dimmed or distorted by 
passing through a bad medium : while, further, as the Mind is thus 
independent of its Material tenement, and of the circumstances in 
which this may chance to be placed, but is endowed with a 
complete power of Self-government, it is responsible for all ilg 
notions, which must be judged-of by certain fixed standards. 

7. Now this doctrine fully recognizes all that is ignored in the 
preceding , but, on the other hand, it ignores all that it recognized 

* This term is here used in its older or Philosophical sense ; not as designating 
modern "Spiritualists " (oi rathei " Spirit-rappers "), who have little in coaunon 
with those whose name they have adopted. 



8 General Relatio7is of Mind and Body. 

and served to account for ; and is not less opposed to facts of most 
familiar experience. For in placing the Mind altogether outside 
the Body, and in denying that its action is ever disordered 
by Bodily conditions, the Spiritualist puts us in the dilemma c I 
eitlier rejecting the plainest evidence, or of admitting that, aftei 
allj we know nothing of the nature of the Mind itself; all that we 
do know, being that lower part of our Mental nature which operates 
ou the Body, and is in its turn affected through it. — Those who 
would fully and consistently carry out this doctrine, are driven to 
maintain that even in the state of Intoxication there is no truly 
mental perversion ; and that, in spite of appearances, the mind of 
the Lunatic {divinoe particula aurce) is perfectly sound, its bodily 
instrument being alone disordered. But it cannot be overlooked, 
that in the delirious ravings of Intoxication or of Fever, or in the 
conversation and actions of the Lunatic, we have precisely the 
same evidence of mental operation, that we have in the sayings and 
doings of the same individuals in a state of sanity; and ample 
testimony to this effect is borne by those who have observed their 
own mental state during the access of these conditions, and who 
have described the alteration which took place in the course of 
their Thoughts, when as yet neither the Sensorial nor the Motor 
apparatus was in the least perturbed (§ 537). Nothing can be more 
plain to the unprejudiced observer, than that the introduction of 
Intoxicating agents into the Blood-circulation really perverts the 
action of the Mind ; disordering the usual sequence of pheno- 
mena most purely psychicaly and occasioning new and strange 
results which are altogether at variance with those of its normd 
action. And when once the reality of this influence of Physical 
annditions upon purely-Mental states is forced upon the Physio- 
ogist, he cannot avoid recognizing it as a general fact of our 
nature : so that he comes to be impressed by the conviction, thai 
whilst there is something in our Moral constitution beyond and 
above any agency which can be attributed to Matter, the operations 



Formation and Self-formation of Character. 9 

of the Mind are in a great degree determined (in our present 
Btate of being) by the Material conditions with which they are so 
intimately associated. 

8 This combination of two distinct agencies in the Mental 
constitution of each individual, is recognized in the whole theory 
and practice of Education. For whilst, in its earlier stages, tha 
Educator aims to call-forth and train the Intellectual Faculties of 
Lis Pupil, and to form his Moral Character, by bringing appropriate 
external influences to bear upon him, every one who really under- 
stands his profession will make it his special object to foster the 
development, and to promote the right exercise, of that internal 
power, by the exertion of which each Individual becomes the director 
of his own conduct, and so far the arbiter of his own destinies. This 
power is exercised by the Will, in virtue of its domination over 
the automatic operations of the Mind, as over the automatic 
movements of the Body (§ 14) ; the real s^^-formation of the 
Ego commencing with his consciousness of the ability to determine 
Ids own course of thought and action. Until this self-directing 
power has been acquired, the Character is the resultant of the indi- 
vidual's original constitution, and of the circumstances in which he 
may have been placed ; and so long as the circumstances are un- 
favourable to its development, and to the operation of those higher 
tendencies which should furnish the best motives to its exercise, 
so long the Character of the individual is formed for him rather 
than hi/ him. A being entirely governed by the lower passions and 
instincts, whose higher Moral Sense has been repressed from its 
earliest dawn by the degrading influence of the conditions in which 
he is placed, who has never learned to exercise any kind of self' 
restraint (or, if he has learned it, has only been trained to use it for 
the lowest purposes), who has never heard of a God, of Immortality, 
or of the wortli of his Soul, — such a being, one of those heathen 
outcasts of whom all our great towns are imhappily but too 
productive, — can surely be no more morally responsible for hia 



lo General Relations of Mind and Body. 

actions, than the Lunatic who has lost whatever self-control he 
once possessed, and whose moral sense has been altogetlier 
perverted by bodily disorder. But let the former be subjected 
to the training of one of those benevolent individuals who know 
how to find out *' the holy spot in every child's heart ; " let patient 
kindness, continually appealing to the highest motives which the 
child can understand, progressively raise his Moral standard, ainl 
awaken within him the dormant susceptibilities which enable him 
to feel that he has a Conscience and a Duty, that he haa a 
power within himself of controlling and directing his thouglita 
and actions, and that the highest happiness is to be found in 
the determinate pursuit of the true and the good^ — then, but 
not till then, can he be justly considered responsible for his 
actions, either morally or religiously, — then only does he rise 
above the leve. of the brute, and begin to show that he is indeed 
made in the image of his Creator. 

9. Thus we see that the Materialistic and the Spiritualistic 
doctrines alike recognize, and alike ignore, certain great truths of 
Human Nature ; and the question returns upon us, whether any 
general expression can be framed, which may be in harmony alike 
with the results of Scientific inquiry into the relation of Mental 
to Physiological action, and with those simple teachings of our 
own Consciousness, which must be recognized as affording 
the ultimate test of the truth of all Psychological doctrines. 
Towards such an expression we may make a step, as it appears 1 u 
the Writer, in strict accordance with true Philosophy, by witli- 
drawing ourselves entirely from the futile attempt to bring 
Matter and Mind into the same category, and by fixing our 
attention exclusively on the relation between Mind and Force, 
Although far from thinking that the views here offered express 
the whole truth, or solve cdl the difficulties of the subject (the 
originating power of the Human Will, — i. e. its independence of 
Physical Causation, — being the essential difficulty of every system 



Relations of Mind to Force, 1 1 

Vvhich recognizes it), he ventures to think that they deserve the 
a-ttention of such as feel, with him, the importance of fearlessly 
p:ishing the inquiry to its utmost practicable limits, and of 
attaining such definite conceptions as the present state of Scientific 
knowledge may justify. 

10. It is now generally admitted that we neither know, nor 
can know, anything of Matter, save through the medium of the 
impressions it makes on our Senses ; and those impressions are 
only derived from the Forces of which Matter is the vehicle. 
Thus, of those most general Properties of Matter, resistance and 
f)onderosity, our information is entirely derived through our own 
Tactile Sense (under which general head may be combined the 
Sense of Touch, the Sense of Muscular Exertion, and the Mental 
Sense of Effort), by which we recognize the Forces that attract its 
particles to each other and to the Earth ; and what is ordinarily re- 
garded as its distinctive characteristic, its "extension" or occupation 
of Space, we know only as an inference from our own Sense- 
perceptions. In fact, instead of Matter (as some affirm) being the ob- 
ject of our immediate cognizance, and the Laws of Matter our most 
certain form of knowledge, there seems valid ground for the assertion 
that our notion of Matter is a conception of the Intellect, Force 
being that externality of which we have the most direct — perhaps 
even the only direct — cognizance. And in this way. Force — 
of the existence of which we are rendered cognizant by the direct 
testimony of our own Consciousness, which is to us the most 
certain of realities — comes into immediate relation with Mind, 
Moreover, while Matter is essentially passive, — since, when left t# 
itself, it always impresses our Consciousness in one and the same 
mode, any change in that impression being the consequence of 
an agency external to itself, — all its Activities are manifesta- 
tions of the Forces of which it is the vehicle, and to the 
exercise of which all the phenomena of the Material Universe 
are due. 



r 2 Gene7^al Relations of Mind and Body. 



Water, for example, would continue unchanged so long- as it? 
r^imperature remains the same, and no decomposing agency ia 
bi ought to bear upon it: but Heat communicated to it occasion a 
that repulsion between its particles, which transforms it from s 
non-elastic liquid into an elastic vapour exerting a proportionate 
Mechanical Force ; and the same measure of Power is again givon 
forth from it, either as Heat or as Motion, with the transformation 
of the aqueous vapour back to the liquid state. — In like manner, the 
fcrunsmission of a sufficiently strong Electric current through Water 
resolves it into its two component gases, which, when made to 
re-unite, give off the equivalent, in the form of Light and Heat, of 
the Elastic Force which kept their particles asunder, and which 
was itself more remotely derived from Electricity, developed by 
< Chemical change. 

iiut Mind, like Force, is essentially active; all its states are 
states of change; and of these changes we become directly or 
immediately conscious by our own experience of them. In fact, 
every term — as Sensation, Perception, Idea, Emotion, — which 
expresses a Mental state, is a designation of a phase of 
Mental existence that intervenes between other phases, in the 
continual succession of which our idea of Mind consists ; and Con- 
sciousness itself is nothing else than the designation which we give 
to the condition which is common to all these forms of activity. 

11. Now, nothing can be more certain, than that the primary form 
of Mental activity, — Sensational consciousness, — is excited through 
Physiological instrumentality. A certain Physical impression ia 
made, for example, by the formation of a luminous image upon the 
Retina of the Eye; a change being thereby produced in that 
Nervous expansion, which is clearly analogous to that which » 
similar image would make upon a sensitive Photographic surface. 
But instead of recording itself by a permanent effect upon the 
Retinal surface, the effect of this Visual impression is to excite 
the activity of the Optic Nerve ; through the instrumentality o/ 
wliich, again, an active condition is excited in the Optic Ganglion 
to which it proceeds, — ^just as, in the transmission of a Telegraphic 



Congelation of Mind-force and Nerve-force. 1 3 

message, the movements of the signalling needle at one end of 
the wire repeat themselves in the movements of the magnei'c 
needle at the other. So far, we are concerned with a Physiological 
mechanism alone ; through which (probably by Chemical changes 
in the Nerve-substance) Light excites Nerve-force, and tJie 
transmission of this Nerve-force excites the activity of that part 
of the Brain which is the instrument of our Visual Consciousneps. 
Now in what way the physical change thus excited in the Sensorium 
is translated (so to speak) into that psychical change which we 
Ccill seeing the object whose image was formed upon our Retina, 
we know nothing whatever ] but we are equally ignorant of the 
way in which Light produces Chemical change, and Chemical 
change excites Nerve-force. And all we can say is, that there is 
just as close a succession of sequences — as intimate a causal 
relation between antecedent and consequent — in the one case, as 
there is in the other. In other words, there is just the same 
evidence of what has been termed Correlation, between Nerve- 
force and that primary state of Mental activity which we call 
Sensation, that there is between Light and Nerve-force; — each 
antecedent, when the Physiological mechanism is in working order, 
being invariably followed by its corresponding consequent. And 
true Visual consciousness of an external object can no more be 
excited without an active condition of the Sensorium corresponding 
to it, than that active condition of the Sensorium can be called 
forth without the transmission of Nerve-force from the Retina ; 
or than that active condition of the Retina which generates and 
transmits the Nerve-force, can be produced without Light or some 
other equivalent Force.* 

12. The like Correlation may be shown to exist between Mental 
states and the form of Nerve-force which calls forth Motion 
through the Muscular apparatus. We shall hereafter see that 

* The case of those "Subjective Sensations" which imitate the sensationg 
called up ty external objects, will be considered in its proper place (§§ 139 — l47Jb 



f4 General Relations^ of Mind and Body. 

each kind of Mental activity,— Sensational, Instinctive, Emotional, 
Ideational, and Volitional, — may express itself in Bodily move- 
ment \ and it is clear that every such movement is called forth 
by an active &;ate of a certain part of the Brain, which excites a 
corresponding activity in the Motor Nerves issuing from it, 
whereby particidar Muscles are called into contraction. No Physio* 
logist ca,n doubt that the Mechanical force exerted by the Muscles 
is the expression of certain Chemical changes which take place 
between their own substance and the oxygenated Blood that 
circulates through them ; or that the Nerve-force which calls 
forth those changes, is intimately related to Electricity and other 
Physical forces. But this Nervous activity has its source in 
molecular changes in the Nerve-centres ; the transmission of 
Nerve-force along the motor nerve being just as dependent upon 
Chemical changes taking place between the substance of the 
Ganglionic centre from which it proceeds and the oxygenated Blood 
that circulates through it, as is the transmission of an Electric 
current along the Telegraph-wire upon the Chemical changes 
taking place between the metals and the exciting liquid of the 
Galvanic battery. But these changes are themselves capable of 
being brought about by the various forms of Mental activity just 
enumerated. Just as a perfectly constructed Galvanic battery 
is inactive while the circuit is "interrupted," but becomes active 
the instant that the circuit is "closed," so does a Sensation, an 
Instinctive tendency, an Emotion, an Idea, or a Volition, which 
attains an intensity adequate to " close " the circuit, liberate 
the Nerve-force with which a certain part of the Brain, while in 
a state of wakeful activity, is always "charged." That Mental 
antecedents can thus call forth Physical consequents, is just as 
certain as that Physical antecedents can call forth Mental con- 
sequents ; and thus the Correlation between Mind-force and 
Nerve-force is shown to be complete both ways, each being able to 
eicite the other. 



Automatic Actiiity of the Mind, 15 

13. Now using these facts as our basis, we seem justified in going 
further; and in asserting that the same kind of evidence justifies 
the belief, that a Physiological mechanism of the like nature 
furnishes the instrumentality through which all kinds of Mental 
operation take place. For no Scientific Psychologist has any 
JEOubt that there are *' Laws of Thought" expressing sequences of 
Mental activity, which (if we could thoroughly acquaint ourselves 
with them) would be found as fixed and determinate as the " Laws 
of Matter;" the difficulty in ascertaining them arising solely from 
the difficulty in subjecting Mental phenomena to precise observa- 
tion, and in analysing the complex conditions under which they 
occur. And whilst these laws comprehend that large part of our 
Mental activity which may be designated as automatic, — consist- 
ing in a succession of Mental states, of which each calls forth 
the next by Suggestion, without any interference from the Will, — 
it will be further shown that there are a great number of Mental 
phenomena which cannot be accounted for in any other way, than 
as resulting from the operation of a Physiological mechanism, 
which may go on not only automatically^ but even unconsciously 
(Chap. XIII.). That w^e are not always conscious of the working 
of this Mechanism, is simply because our Sensorium is otherwise 
engaged : for just as we may not see things which are passing before 
our eyes, or be conscious of the movements of our legs in walking, if 
our Attention be wholly engrossed by our Cerebral " train of 
thought," so may we not be conscious of what is going on in our 
Cerebrum, whilst our Attention is wholly concentrated upon what 
is passing before our Eyes (§ 117). But the Physiological me- 
chanism has this peculiarity, — that \t forms itself according to the 
mode in which it is hahitnally exercised ; and thus not only its 
automatic but even its unconscious action comes to be indirectly 
modified by the controlling power of the Will (§ 95). 

14. It may serve to promote the right understanding of the 
general doctrine as to the relation of Will to Thought which it is tlie 

6 



[6 General Relations of Mind and Body. 

chief object of tbis Treatise to set forth, if we briefly inquire into the 
relation of the Will to Bodily Movements. It has been customary 
to classify these as voluntary or involuntary^ but it will be found 
preferable to distinguish them as w^i^zWaZ and az^ioma^ic; thefjrmei 
being those which are called forth by a distinct effort of Will, and 
are directed to the execution of a definite purpose; whilst the 
latter are performed in respondence to an internal prompting of 
which we may or may not be conscious, and are not dependent on 
any preformed intention, — being executed, to use a common expres- 
sion, "mechanically." Some of these 2irQ primarily ov originally 
Automatic; whilst others, which were Volitional in the first instance, 
come by frequent repetition to be performed independently of the 
Will, and thus become secondarily Automatic* Some of the Auto- 
matic movements, again, can be controlled by the Will ; whilst others 
take place in opposition to the strongest Volitional effort. There 
is a large class of secondarily-automatic actions, which the Will 
can initiate, and which then go on of themselves in sequences estab- 
lished by previous Habit ; but which the Will can stop, or of which 
it can change the direction, as easily as it set them going ; and 
these it will be convenient to term voluntary^ as being entirely 
under the control of the Will, although actually maintained Auto- 
matically. 

15. Those movements of which the uninterrupted performance 
is essential to the maintenance of Life, are primarily automatic ; 
and are not only independent of the Will, but entirely beyond its 
control. The " beating of the Heart," which is a typical example 
of such movements, though liable to be affected by emotional 
disturbance, cannot be altered either in force or frequency by 
any volitional effort. And only one degree removed from this ia 

* The sagacity of Hartley enabled him to anticipate on this point the discoreriea 
of modern Physiology ; for in designating as secondarily automatic the whole of 
the actions which come to be performed by Habit without Will or even Conscious- 
i>ess, though originally Jeai-ned and practised with conscious intent, he showed a 
discernment of their true character which later researches have entirely justified 



Automatic Movements of the Body. 17 

the act of Kespiration ; which, though capable in Man of being so 
yegulated by the Will as to be made subservient to the ises of 
Speech, cannot be checked by the strongest exertion of it for more 
than a few moments. If we try to " hold our breath," for su^jh 
A period that the aeration of the blood is seriously interfered with, a 
feeling of distress is experienced, which every moment increases iu 
intensity until it becomes absolutely unbearable ; so that the auto- 
matic impulse which prompts its relief can no longer be resisted. 
So when a crumb of bread or a drop of water passes " the wrong 
way," the presence of an irritation in the windpipe automatically 
excites a combination of muscular movements, which tends to an 
expulsion of the offending particle by an explosive Cough. The 
strongest exertion of the Will is powerless to prevent this action ; 
which is repeated in spite of every effort to repress it, until that 
result has been obtained. If the irritation be applied to the nasal 
entrance of the air-passages, as in snuff-taking, a peculiar valvular 
action at the back of the mouth automatically directs a part of the 
explosive blast through the nose j and this Sneeze, if the stimulus 
be applied in sufficient strength, is altogether beyond Volitional 
T/ontrol. — It is worthy of note that whilst the act of coughing can 
be excited by a mandate of the Will, through the instrumentality 
to be hereafter explained (§ 47), we cannot thus execute a true 
meeze, the stage-imitation of which is ludicrously unlike the 
reality. 

16. There can be no doubt that in the lower tribes of Animals, a 
large part of the ordinary movements of Locomotion are of the same 
primarily automatic character ; being executed in direct respon- 
dence to a stimulus that acts through the Nervous centres with 
which the locomotive members are directly connected, and being 
performed by the headless trunk with just the same perfect co" 
ordination as by the entire creature (§ 54). In Man, however, 
the power of performing these movements is acquired by a process of 
education ; and no one can watch this process, without perceiving 



r 8 Gejiej^al Relations of Mind and Body. 

how gradual is the acquirement of the co-ordinating power, 
especially m the balancing of the body during each successive step. 
As Paley says ; " A child learning to walk is the greatest posture 
master in the world." Yet, when this co-ordination has been onop 
established, the ordinary movements of Locomotion — though in- 
volving the combined action of almost every muscle in the body — 
are performed automatically ; the Will being only concerned in 
starting, directing, or checking them. — Of this we have familiar 
experience in the continuance of the act of walldng^ whilst the 
attention is occupied by some "train of thought" which completely 
and continuously engrosses it. Though we set out with the inten- 
tion of proceeding in a certain direction, after a few minutes we may 
lose all consciousness of where we are, or of whither our legs are 
carrying us ; yet we continue to w^alk-on steadily, and may iinex- 
pectedly find ourselves at the end of our journey before we are aware 
of having done more than commence it (§ 71). Each individual 
movement here suggests the succeeding one, and the repetition con- 
tinues, until, the Attention having been recalled, the automatic 
impulse is superseded by the control of the Will. Further, the 
direction of the movement is given by the sense of Sight, which so 
guides the motions of our legs that we do not jostle our fellow 
passengers or run up against lamp-posts ; and the same sense directs 
also their general course along the line that habit has rendered 
most familiar, although at the commencement of our walk we may 
have intended to take some other. — Suppose our walk to be so pro- 
lunged, however, that the sense of fatigue comes-on before w e have 
reached its appointed conclusion. This calls off our Attention 
from what is going on in the mind, to the condition of the body ; 
and in order to sustain the movements of locomotion, a distinct 
exertion of the Will comes to be requisite for each. With the 
increasing sense of fatigue, an increased effort becomes necessary \ 
and at last even the most determined Volition may find itself unable 
to evoke a respondent movement from the exhausted Muscles. 



Antomatic, Volu7itary,a7id Volitional Movements. 19 

17. In this familiar experience we can clearly trace three dis- 
tinct modes of action, — the Automatic, the Voluntary, and the 
Volitional. Whilst we are all unconscious of the movements which 
our legs are executing for us, those movements are purely automatic 
VVJien our attention is not so completely engrossed elsewhere, but 
that we know where we are and what we are doing, the movements 
of locomotion are not only "permitted by the Will, but may be guided 
by it into some unusual direction ; such movements are voluntary. 
But when the sense of fatigue attending each movement makes it 
necessary that a distinct effort of the Will shall be exerted for its 
repetition, the act comes to he volitional. — The explanation of these 
phenomena lies in the fact, that the Nervo-muscular mechanism 
immediately concerned in executing the movement (of which an 
account will be given hereafter, §§ 54, 71) is the same through- 
out, but that it is started by different means ; the Will replacing 
the stimulus to action otherwise furnished by an external 
impression. Of tliis we have a typical example in the act of 
Coughing. When we will to cough (as for the purpose of giving 
a signal, or putting down a tedious speaker), we merely touch 
the spring, as it were, of a mechanism, which automatically 
combines the multitude ot separate actions that are required to 
produce the result (§ 47) ; just as when we pull the trigger of a 
gun, or open the valve which admits steam into the steam-engine. 
And the only difference in kind between the act of Coughing and 
that of Walking consists in this, — that whilst the mechanism 
concerned in the former is ready for action from the first, that 
by which the latter is performed requires to have its various 
springs and levers adjusted to harmonious operation. But when 
this adjustment has been once made, it remains good for life ; in 
virtue of that remarkable peculiarity of our Bodily constitution, 
which keeps up the Nutrition of each part in accordance with the 
UBe that is made of it (§ 276). 

18. There may still be Metaphysicians who maintain that 



20 General Relations of Mind and Body. 

actions which were originally prompted by the Will with a distinct 
intention, and which are still entirely under its control, can neve? 
cease to be Volitional ; and that either an infinitesimally small 
amount of will is required to sustain them w^hen they have been 
once set going, or that the will is in a sort of pendulum-like oscil- 
lation between the two actions, — the maintenance of the train of 
thought^ and the maintenance of the train of movement But if only 
an infinitesimally small amount of Will is necessary to sustain them, 
is not this tantamount to saying that they go on by a force of their 
own 1 And does not the experience of the perfect continuity of our 
trains of thought during the performance of movements that have 
become habitual, entirely negative the hypothesis of oscillation ? 
Besides, if such an oscillation existed, there must be intervals in 
which each action goes on of itself ; so that its essentially automa- 
tic character is virtually admitted. The Physiological explanation, 
that the Mechanism of Locomotion, as of other habitual movements, 
grows to the mode in which it is early exercised, and that it then 
works automatically under the general control and direction of the 
Will, can scarcely be put down by any assumption of a hypothetical 
necessity, which rests only on the basis of ignorance of one side of 
our composite nature. 

19. But we may go a step further, and assert that it may now 
be regarded as a well-established Physiological fact, that even in the 
most purely Volitional movements — those which are prompted by 
a distinct purposive effort, — the Will does not directly produce the 
result; but plays, as it were, upon the Automatic apparatus by which 
the requisite Nervo-muscular combination is brought into action. 

20. No better illustration of this doctrine could be adduced, 
than that which is furnished by the act of Vocalization ; either in 
articulate Speech, or in the production of Musical tones. In each 
of these acts, the co-ordination of a large number of muscular 
movements is required ; and so complex are their combinations, 
that the professed Anatomist would be unable, ";vithout careful 



Action of the Wilt 07i the Atctomatic Mechanism. 21 

itudy, to determine what is the precise state of each of the muscles 
concerned in the prodaction of a given musical note, or the enun- 
ciation of a particular syllable. Yet we simply conceive the tone or 
the syllable we wish to utter, and say to our a.utomatic Self ** Do 
this : '' and the well-trained Automaton does it. The delicate gra- 
dations in the action of each individual muscle, and the harmonious 
combination of the whole, are effected under the guidance of the 
Ear, without (save in exceptional cases) the smallest knowledge on 
our own parts of the nature of the mechanism we are putting 
in action. In fact, the most perfect acquaintance with that 
mechanism would scarcely afford the least assistance in the ac- 
quirement of the power to use it. The " training " which develops 
the inarticulate Cry of the infant into articulate Speech or 
melodious Song, mainly consists in the fixation of the Attention 
on the audible result, the selection of that one of the imitative 
efforts to produce it which is most nearly successful, and the 
repetition of this until it has become habitual or secondarily 
automatic. The Will can thenceforwards reproduce any sound 
once acquired, by calling upon the Automatic apparatus for the 
particular combination of movements which it has grown into the 
power of executing in respondence to each preconception j pro- 
vided, at least, that the apparatus has not been allowed to become 
rusty by disuse, or been stiffened by training into a different 
mode of action. Even the strongest Will, however, may fail to 
acquire complete control over the complex Automatic mechanism. 
The articulation of the Stammerer is disturbed by spasmodic 
impulses, which he vainly endeavours to keep under subjection : — 
the Vocalist's ear may tell him that he is singing out of tune, and 
yet he may be unable to correct his fault : — and even a Viardot 
or a Patti would feel unfit either for the performance of a new 
r6le, or for the repetition of an old one long laid by, however 
perfect might be her mental conception of it, until she had trained 
or re-trained her organ to execute that conception. 



22 G enteral Relations of Mind and Body. 

21. Another illustration, drawn from the movements of the 
Eyes, may place this doctrine in a still clearer light ; inasmuch as 
the action of the living Automaton can he watched either by a 
bystander, or by the Ego that calls it forth. Let the reader will 
to fix his gaze on the face of a person directly opposite to him, and 
then will to move his head from side to side ; his eyeballs will be 
Been to roll in their sockets in the contrary direction^ and this not 
only without any volitional effort on his part, but even without 
his being in any way conscious of the act, except by a process of 
reasoning. Or, if he move his head upwards and downwards, his 
eyes (still fixed on the opposite face) will roll conversely downwards 
and upwards. And if, instead of looking at the face of another, he 
fix his gaze upon the reflection of his own eyes in a mirror, and 
then move his head as before, he will be able to satisfy himself 
that his Automaton is directing his eyes for him ; every alteration 
in the position of his head being accompanied by a roll of his 
eyeballs in the opposite direction, so that their axes continue to be 
turned towards the reflected image, so long as he wills to keep 
them so. 

22. The same may be shown to be true of all the so-called 
Voluntary movements. What we will is, not to throw this or 
that muscle into contraction, but to produce a certain preconceived 
result. That result may be within the capacity of our ordinary 
Mechanism ; but, if it be not, we have to create a new mechanism 
by a course of training or practice ; the eff'ect of which (as already 
shown) is to make the Automatic apparatus grow to the mode in 
which it is habitually exercised. — That this is the true theory of 
these movements, is evident from several considerations, of which 
a few must here suffice. If the performance of a Voluntary move- 
ment required a transmission of Nervous power direct from the 
Brain (which may be assumed to be the instrument of the Will) 
to the Muscles concerned in its production, then we should 
need to know what those muscles are. and to select and combine 



Action of the Will on the AtUomatic Mechanism. 2 



cy 



tliem intentionally ; which is so far from being the fact, that the 
Donsunimate anatomist is no better able than the completest igno 
ramus to execute a movement he has never practised. Again, if 
our Muscles were under the direct control of the Will, we could 
single out any one of them, and make it contract by itself; which 
we cannot really do, except in the few instances in which willing 
the result calls only a single muscle into action. So again, if an 
accomplished Musician should wish to play upon an instrument he 
has never practised, but of which he thoroughly understands the 
mechanism, it would be sufficient for him to will the movements 
he knows to be requisite for the production of the desired tones, 
instead of having to acquire the power of performing them by a 
laborious course of training ; and the man who, on being asked 
whether he could play the fiddle, said that " he did not know till 
he had tried," might have shown himself a very Joachim when the 
instrument was put into his hands. 

23. The doctrine that the Will, which carries into action the 
determinations of the Intellect, has no direct power over the 
muscles which execute its mandates, but operates through the 
automatic mechanism, is in entire harmony with the knowledge 
acquired of late years in regard to the relative functions of 
the Cerehrum and of the Axial Cord on which it is super- 
imposed. For it will be shown (Chap. 11.) that the latter, which 
receives all the nerves of Sense, and gives forth all the nerves of 
Motion, constitutes the fundamental and essential part of the 
Nervous System, and is alone concerned in the performance of all 
those movements which are primarily automatic or Instinctive : 
whilst the Cerebrum, the development of which seems to bear 
a pretty constant relation to the degree in which Intelligencs 
Bupersedes Instinct as a source of action, is superadded to this 
Axial Cord ; through which, on the one hand, it receives Sense« 
impressions, whilst, on the other, it calls the Muscles into action. 
And thus, when we will to cough, certain Cerebral fibres (§ 89) 



24 General Relations of Mind and Body. 

convey the same stimulus to the centre of Respiratory movement, 
that is brought to it by the Sensory nerves when a crumb of bread 
or a drop of water *' goes the wrong way," and calls forth the same 
respondent action. 

24. Thus, then, the relation between the Automatic activity of 
the body, and the Volitional direction by which it is utilized and 
directed, may be compared to the independent locomotive power of 
a horse under the guidance and control of a skilful rider. It is Dot 
the rider's whip or spur that furnishes the power, but the nerves 
and muscles of the horse ; and when these have been exhausted, 
no further action can be got out of them by the sharpest stimu- 
lation. But the rate and direction of the movement are deter- 
mined by the Will of the rider, who impresses his mandates on 
the well-trained steed with as much readiness and certainty as if 
he were acting on his own limbs. Now and then, it is true, some 
unusual excitement calls forth the essential independence of the 
equine nature ; the horse takes the bit between his teeth, and runs 
away with his master ; and it is for the time uncertain whether 
the independent energy of the one, or the controlling power of the 
other, will obtain the mastery. This is just what we see in those 
Spasms and Convulsions which occur without loss of consciousness, 
and in which the muscles that we are accustomed to regard aa 
" voluntary " are called into violent contraction, in spite of the 
strongest Volitional resistance. On the other hand, the horse will 
quietly find his way home, whilst his rider, wrapped in a profound 
reverie, entirely ceases to guide him ; just as our own legs carry 
us along a course which habit has made familiar, while our Mind 
is engaged only upon its own operations, and our Will is altogether 
hi abeyance. And, to complete the parallel, the process by which 
a Horse is taught any unusual performance — as when in "training" 
for the Circus or the Stage — entirely corresponds with that by 
which we " train " our own automatic mechanism to any nove] 
action : the result desired by the master being indicated to tha 



Poiver of the Will over Mental Action, 25 

.earner, every effort that tends to produce it being encouraged 
and fixed by repetition, and every unsuitable action being 
repressed ; until the entire sequence comes to be automatically 
executed at the first touch of the suggesting spring which 
expresses the directing Will. 

25. Now all this will be found to be as true of the Mind^ as it is 
of the body. Our Mental activity is, in the first instance, entirely 
gpcmtaneous or automatic; being determined by our congenital 
nervous Organization, and by the conditions of its early develop- 
ment. It may be stated as a fundamental principle, that the Will 
can never originate any form of Mental activity. Thus, no one has 
ever acquired the creative power of Genius, or made himself a great 
Artist or a great Poet, or gained hy practice that peculiar insight 
which characterises the original Discoverer ; for these gifts are 
Mental Instincts or Intuitions (§ 408), which, though capable of 
being developed and strengthened by due cultivation, can never be 
generated de novo. But the power of the Will is exerted in 
the purposive selection^ from among those objects of consciousness 
which Sensations from without and the working of the internal 
" Mechanism of Thought and Feeling " bring before the Ego 
(whether simultaneously or successively), of that which shall be 
determinately followed up ; and in the intensification of the force of 
its impression, which seems the direct consequence of such limitation. 
This state is what is termed Attention ; in regard to which it waa 
well said by Sir William Hamilton, that its intensity is in a precisely 
inverse ratio to its extensity. And it will be the Writer's object to 
show, that it is solely by the Volitional direction of the attention 
tliat the Will exerts its domination ; so that the acquirement oi 
this power, which is within the reach of every one, should be the 
primary object of all Mental discipline. It is thus that each indi- 
vidual can perfect and utilize his natural gifts ; by rigorously training 
tliem in the first instance, and then by exercising them only in 
the manner most fitted to expand and elevate, while restraining 



26 General Relations oj Mind and Body. 

them from all that would limit or debase. — In regard to every 
kind of Mental activity that does not involve origination, the power 
of the Will, though limited to selection, is almost unbounded. For 
although it cannot directly bring objects before the consciousness 
which are not present to it (§ 371), yet, by concentrating the Mental 
gaze (so to speak) upon any object that may be within its reach, it 
can make use of this to bring in other objects by associative Sug- 
gestion. And, moreover, it can virtually determine what shall not 
be regarded by the Mind, through its power of keeping the Atten- 
tion fixed in some other direction ; and thus it can subdue the force 
of violent impulse, and give to the conflict of opposing motives a 
result quite different from that which would ensue without its in- 
terference (§ 332). This exercise of the Will, moreover, if habitually 
exerted in certain directions, will tend to form the Character, 
by establishing a set of acquired habitudes; which, no less than 
those dependent upon original constitution and circumstances, help 
to determine the working of the " Mechanism of Thought and 
Feeling." In so utilising it, the Will can also improve it by appro- 
priate discipline ; repressing its activities where too strong, foster- 
ing and developing them where originally feeble, directing all 
healthful energy into the most fitting channel for its exercise, and 
training the entire Mental as it does the Bodily organism to 
harmonious and effective working. And thus in proportion as our 
Will acquires domination over our Automatic tendencies, the 
spontaneous succession of our Ideas and the play of our Emotions 
show the influence of its habitual control ; while our Character and 
Conduct in Life come to be the expression of our best Intellectual 
energies, directed by the Motives which we determinately elect aa 
our guiding principles of action. 

26. It is obvious that the view here taken does not in the least 
militate against the idea, that Mind may have an existence altogether 
independent of the Body which serves as its instrument. All which 
has been contended for is, that the connexion between Mind and 



Power of the Will over Menial Action, 



Body is such, that the actions of each have, in this present state of 
existence (which is all of which Science can legitimately take 
cognizance), a definite causal relation to tliose of the other; so that 
the actions of our Minds, in so far as they are carried on without anp 
interference from our Will, may be considered as " Functions of tiie 
Brain " — On the other hand, in the control which the Will can 
exert over the direction of the thoughts, and over the motive force 
exerted by the feelings, we have the evidence of a new and inde- 
pendent Power, which may either oppose or concur- with the auto- 
matic tendencies, and which, according as it is habitually exerted, 
tends to render the Ego a free agent. And, truly, in the existence 
of this Power, which is capable of thus regulating the very highest 
of those operations that are causally related to corporeal states, we 
find a better evidence than we gain from the study of any other 
part of our Psychical nature, that there is an entity wherein Man's 
nobility essentially consists, which does not depend for its 
existence on any play of Physical or Vital forces, but which makes 
these forces subservient to its determinations. It is, in fact, in virtue 
of the Will, that we are not mere thinking Automata, mere 
puppets to be pulled by suggesting-strings, capable of being 
played-upon by every one who shall have made himself master 
of our springs of action. 

27. It may be freely admitted, however, that such thinking 
Automata do exist : for there are many individuals whose Will has 
never been called into due exercise, and who gradually or almost 
entirely lose the power of exerting it, becoming the mere creatures 
of habit and impulse ; and there are others in whom (as we shall 
hereafter see) such Automatic states are of occasional occurrence, 
whilst in others, again, they may be artificially induced. And it is ( I ) 
by the study of those conditions in which the Will is complete]}^ in 
abeyance, — the course of thought being entirely determined by the 
influence of suggestions upon the Mind, whose mode of reaction 
upon them depends upon its original peculiarities and its sub- 



28 Gejtei^al Relatio7is of AIi7id and Body. 

Bequently-acquired habits, — and (2) by the comparison of such 
abnormal states with that in which the Ego, in full possession 
of all his faculties, and accustomed to the habitual direction of 
his thoughts and control of his feeHngs, determinately applies his 
judgment to the formation of a decision between contending 
impulses, and carries that decision into action, — that we shall 
obtain the most satisfactory ideas of what share the Will really 
takes in the operations of our Minds and in the direction of our 
conduct, and of what must be set down to that automatic 
activity of our Psychical nature, which is correlated with Cerebral 
changes. 

28. Thus, then, the Psychologist may fearlessly throw himself 
into the deepest waters of speculative inquiry in regard to the 
relation between his Mind and its Bodily instrument, provided 
that he trusts to the inherent buoyancy of that great fact of 
Consciousness, that we have within us a self-determining Power which 
we call Will. And he may even find in the evidence of the inti- 
mate relation between Mental activity and Physical changes in the 
Brain, the most satisfactory grounds which Science can afford, 
for his belief that the phenomena of the Material Universe are the 
expressions of an Infinite Mind and Will, of which Man's is the 
finite representative. (See Chap XX.) 



CHAPTER II 

Oy THE NERVOUS SYSTEM AND ITS FUNCTIONa 

Section 1. Eelation of the Nervous System to tlu Body 
generally. 

29. The Body of Man, or of any one of the higher Animals, 
may be regarded as made up of two portions which are essentially 
distinct, though intimately blended as well in their structure as in 
their actions, — viz. (1), the Apparatus of Animal Life, and (2) the 
Apparatus of Vegetative or Organic Life. 

30. To the Apparatus of Animal Life belongs the whole Mechanism 
of those actions which essentially distinguish the Animal from the 
Plant ; namely, Sensation, the higher Psychical changes which 
Sensation initiates, and the Movements which are consequent 
upon them. And thus the Apparatus of Animal Life may be said 
to consist of the Nervous System, the Organs of Sense, and the Organs 
of Motion, — these last including the Skeleton or jointed framework 
(composed of bones, cartilages, and ligaments), and the Muscles 
which give motion to its parts. It is in virtue of the contractility 
possessed by the Muscles, that all the sensible movements of the 
higher Animals are performed : the skeletal framework being 
merely passive, and furnishing a system of levers by which the 
contractile power of the muscles may be advantageously applied ; 
and the muscles being either directly united to the bones, or being 
connected with them by means of the cords termed Tendons, which 
simply communicate the tension or "pull" produced by the 
contraction of the muscles. Thus, the closure of the fingers in 
grasping is for the most part produced by the contraction if 



o 



o Nervozcs System and its Ftmctions. 



Muscles that form the fleshy part of the fore-arm, the strong 
tendons of which may be felt on the front of the wrist-joint ; and 
in like manner, the propulsive movement of the foot in walking is 
effected by the large Muscles forming the calf of the leg, — these 
pulling upwards the heel by means of the great Tendo Achillis into 
which they are continued. 

31. The Apparatus of Organic Life, on the other hand, serves in 
the first instance to construct or huild-up the Apparatus of 
Animal Life, and then to maintain it in " working order." For all 
expenditure of Force involves not only a certain •' wear and tear " 
of the apparatus which furnishes its instrumentality ; but also a 
certain equivalent amount of Chemical change, either in the 
substance of the apparatus itself, or in the blood which circulates 
through it, or in both. Thus when a Muscle is called into con- 
traction, there is a certain disintegration or " waste " of its tissue, 
which needs repair by Nutrition ; bat there is also an oxidation of 
Organic Compounds, by which Carbon and Hj^drogen originally 
derived from the food are converted into Carbonic acid and Water ; 
and what would elsewhere produce Heat, here takes the form of the 
mechanical equivalent of heat, namely Motion. How much of 
these Organic Compounds is supplied by the muscle^ and how much 
by the blood, has not yet been satisfactorily determined : it may 
be regarded, however, as certain that the whole of the motor force 
generated in the contraction of a muscle is not derived (as Liebig 
maintained it to be) from the "waste" of the muscle itself, and 
the oxidation of its components ; but that a large part of it is 
supplied by the oxidation of non-nitrogenous constituents of the 
blood. — The generation of Nerve-force involves a still more 
active change in that part of the Nervous system w^hich is 
the instrument of its production (§ 41) ; and though we are not 
yet able to state precisely in w^hat this change consists, yet we 
may affirm with certainty that it involves a reaction between 
Nerve-substance and oxygenated Blood, which requires a constant 



Nei^vous System and its Ftmctions, 31 

supply of that fluid, and a no less constant removal of the products 
of the reaction to which it ministers. 

32. Thus, then, the Apparatus of Organic Life may be said to 
consist of the organs by which Blood is made^ those by which it is 
kf.pt in circulation, and tliose by which it is maintained in purity ; 
but the action of these has to be supplemented by that of the 
Apparatus of Animal Life. For, in the first place, the Animal 
must obtain its food by the exercise of its senses, of its psychical 
powers, and of its locomotive organs ; and even in the Ingestion and 
Digestion of the food, when procured, the assistance of Muscles ia 
required. So the Circulation of Blood is maintained by a muscular 
Drgan, the Heart, and is regulated locally by the muscularity of the 
walls of the Arteries ; and both the rhythmical contraction of the 
Heart, and the calibre of the Arteries, are greatly influenced by the 
Nervous system. Again, the ordinary movements of Kespiration, 
which constitute the most important of all the provisions by which 
the Blood is kept in the condition required for the development of 
the Nervous and Muscular forces, are dependent in the higher 
animals upon the Nervo-muscular apparatus ; and although they 
are so completely automaticm their character, as to be performed not 
only without eff'ort, but in opposition to effort, they are so far under 
the control of the higher Nervous centres, as to be subservient to 
the Vocal expression of Psychical states. So, again, although the 
action ot the Excretory organs, by which the products of the 
" waste " are removed from the Blood, is essentially independent of 
the Nervo-muscular apparatus, this has a certain control over their 
outlets, which enables the excretions to be retained and discharged 
at suitable times. 

33. We shall find, then, that in the higher Animals tne Nervous 
By stem is the instrument, not only of those Psychical powers by 
which they are pre-eminently distinguished, but also of many 
operations which minister solely to the maintenance of the Organ io 

fc' unctions. But the portions of it which are directly concerned in 

7 



32 Nej'vous System a7id its Functions. 

this latter duty, constitute an automatic apparatus, which is 
essentially independent of those higher centres that minister to 
the former. Thus not only does the Heart continue to beat, bufc 
the Respiratory movements are performed, as well in the sleeping as 
hi the waking state ; during the profoundest insensibility, as in the 
Bondition of fullest mental activity. It cannot be certainly affirmed 
how far the rhythmical contractions of the Heart are dependent 
upon Nervous agency ; but there can be no doubt of this depend- 
ence in the case of the ordinary movements of Respiration ; and 
they afford a typical example of what is known as "reflex" 
action (§ 47). 

As neither the Physiological nor the Psychical action of the 
Nervous Mechanism can be properly understood, without some 
knowledge of its structure, — both as regards the Elementary parts 
of which it is composed, and the different modes in which these 
elements are combined and arranged in different Classes of Animals, 
— an account will now be given of what seems most essential to 
be known under each of these heads. 



Section 2. Elementary Structure of the Nervous System. 

34. Wherever a distinct Nervous system can be made out 
(which has not yet been found possible in the lowest Animals), it 
consists of two very different forms of structure, the presence of 
both of which, therefore, is essential to our idea of it as a whole. 
We observe, in the first place, that it is formed of trunks, which 
distribute branches to the different parts of the body, especially tc 
the Muscles and to the Sensory surfaces ; and of ganglia, which 
sometimes appear merely as knots or enlargements on these trunks, 
but which in other cases have rather the character of central masses 
from which the trunks proceed. Thus in Man, the "nervous 
system of animal life " consists of the Brain and Spinal Cord, 
which are aggregations of ganglia, and of the trunks and branchei 



Elementary Structure of Nervous System. 33 

that proceed from them (Fig. 1). In addition to this, he has also 
a, "Nervous system of Organic life," the ganglionic centres of 
which are scattered through the body (§ 112). In both systems, 
the trunks are essentially composed of nerve-fibres ; whilst the 
ganglionic centres are characterized by the presence of peculiar 
t'lh connected with these fibres. 

35. It is easily established by experiment that the active 
powers of the Nervous system are concentrated in the ganglia, while 
the trunks serve as conductors of the influence which is to be 
propagated towards or from them. For, if a trunk be divided in 
any part of its course, all the parts to which the portion thus 
cut off from the ganglionic centre is distributed, are completely 
paralysed ; that is, no impression made upon them is felt as a 
Sensation, and no Motion can be excited in them by any act of the 
mind. Or, if the substance of the ganglion be destroyed, all the 
parts which are exclusively supplied by nervous trunks proceeding 
from it, are in like manner paralysed. But if, when a trunk is 
divided, the portion still connected with the ganglionic centre 
which constitutes the Sensorium be pinched, or otherwise irritated, 
Sensations are felt, which are referred to the points supplied by 
the separated portion of the trunk ; thus showing that the part 
remaining in connection with the centre is still capable of con- 
veying impressions, and that the ganglion itself receives these 
impressions and makes them felt as sensations. On the ether 
hand, if the separated portion of the trunk be irritated. Motions 
are excited in the muscles which it supplies ; showing that it is 
still capable of conveying the motor influence, though cut off from 
the usual source of that influence. 

36. Each Nerve-fibre in its most complete form (Fig. 2) consists 
of a membranous tube ', lined by a peculiar material composed 
of a combination of fat and albumen, which is known as 
the " white substance of Schwann^;" and this encloses an "axis 
cylinder V' composed of a protoplasmic substance, which seem* 



34 N'ervous System and its Ftmctions, 




Nervous system of man. 



Elementary Strtccture of Nervous System, 35 

to be the essential constituent of the Nerve-fibre. Each fibre 
appears to maintain its continuity uninterruptedly from its 
origin to its termination, without any union with 
other fibres, though bound up closely with them in 
the same nerve-trunk ; and there is strong reason to 
believe that the " white substance of Schwann " serves 
as an insidator, whereby the axis-cylinders of the con- 
tiguous nerve-fibres are kept apart from one another, 
just as are the numerous wires, each having its own 

STRUCTURE 

origin and termination, which are bound up together of nervb- 
in the aerial cable of the District Telegraph. — The ^^^^^' 
typical form of the Nerve-cells or " ganglion-globules " (Fig. 3) may 
be regarded as globular ; but they generally, if not always, have 
two or more long extensions, which be- pj„ 3 

come continuous either with the axis- 
cylinders of nerve-fibres or with other 
cells. The nerve-cells, which do not seem 
to possess a definite cell-wall, are com- 
posed of a finely-granular substance, with 
which pigment-granules are mingled, espe- 
cially in the warm-blooded Vertebrata ; 
thus giving to their ganglionic nerve-sub- 
stance that reddish-brown hue which causes 
it to be often designated grey or cineritious 
matter; the ^w6w^arnerve-substance, which 
contains no pigment-granules, being known 
as white matter. This difference of colour G-anglion-cells and nerve- 
marks the distribution of the two sub- fibres. 

stances in the Nervous centres of Man and the higher Animals 

Fig. 1. Nervous System of Man '.—a, Cerebrum ; 6, Cerebellum ; c, Spinal 
Cord ; d, facial nerve ; e, brachial plexus, for supply of arm ; /, radial nerve ; 
g, median nerve ; h, ulnar nerve ; i, intercostal nerves ; k, lumbar plexus, and 
I, sacral plexus, for supply of leg ; m m, fibular nerve ; n, tibial nerve ; 
p, external saphenous nerve. 




36 Nervoics Syste^n and its Fu7ictioiis. 



(Figs. 11 — 13); but as the pigment-cells are wanting in the 
lower Classes, the distinction between the two substances is not 
there recognizable by the eye, and is only to be discerned by 
the microscope. 

37. Every Nerve-fibre, there is reason to believe, is connected at 
its ganglionic centre with a Nerve-cell, an extension of which forraa 
its axis-cylinder \ and through other extensions of the same nerve- 
cell, it may be brought into connection with other nerve-cells 
in the same ganglion. The axis-cylinder soon receives its in- 
sulating investments, and retains these through almost its whole 
length. But near its termination, where the fibre separates itself 
from others, and is proceeding to its ultimate destination, the axis- 
cylinder escapes (as it \73re) from its envelopes, and comes into 
immediate relation with the tissue to which it is distributed. Thus, 
when supplying a Muscle, the axis-cylinder breaks up into very 
minute fibrillse, which seem to inosculate with each other, so as to 
form a network closely resembling that formed by the pseudopodia 
of Rhkopods (Fig. 5); and the like subdivision appears to take 
place in the axis-cylinders of the fibres which are distributed to the 
general substance of tissues that are to be endowed only with ordi- 
nary sensibility. But each of the papillce which constitute the 
special organs of Touch has a nerve-fibre proceeding to it alone, 
of which the ultimate subdivisions are distributed upon a little 
cushion-like pad which it contains ; and the ultimate distribution 
of the nerves in the papillae of the tongue, which minister to 
the sense of Taste, seems to be of like character. 

38. In the organs of Sight, Hearing, and Smell, however, there 
is a more special provision for the reception of the peculiar im- 
pressions to which they miuister. For the Retina of the Eye may 
he said to be an expanded ganglion, consisting of layers of nerve- 
cells that seem to be the immediate recipients of the luminous 
impressions ; and the first eff'ect of those impressions appears to 
be to generate Nerve-furce in the nerve-fibres constituting the 



Elementary Structure of Nervous System. 37 

Optic nerve, which transmits them to its ganglionic centre form- 
m% part of the Sensorium. The like seems to be the case with 
regard to the sensitive surface which receives the vibrations tha,t 
excite the sense of Sound ; and also with respect to that which 
is affected by those odorous emanations which excite the sense of 
Smell. And it is common to these three organs, that neither the 
ganglionic expansions which receive these special impressions, nor 
the nerves proceeding from them, minister to common sensation ; so 
that either the Optic, the Olfactive, or the Auditory nerve may be 
pricked or pinched, without any sign of suffering being called 
forth. On the other hand, the Eye, the internal Ear, and the 
interior of the Nose, are endowed with common sensibility by other 
nerves distributed to those parts ; so that if these nerves be 
paralysed, the surface to which they proceed may be touched 
without the contact being perceived, although neither Sight, Smell, 
nor Hearing may be impaired, save indirectly. 

39. The Nerve-fibres v,^hich convey from the various parts of 
the body to the ganglionic centres those impressions which there 
excite Sensations, are called afferent or excitor.^ On the other 
hand, the Nerve-fibres which convey from the Ganglionic centres 
to the Muscles the impressions which call forth contractions in 
the latter, are called efferent or motor. It is probable that the 
nature of the Nerve-force excited in each is the same ; so that 
the same fibre might serve either purpose, if its terminals enabled 
it to do so, — ^just as the same wire in an Electric Telegraph can 
convey an electric current in either direction, and can thus serve 
alike for the transmission of a message and for its reply. But as 
the terminals of the two sets of Nerve-fibres are essentially distinct, 
one set serves for the reception of impressions at the circuui- 

* They were formerly called sensory ; but this term is inappropriate, since tho 
impressions they convey only affect our Consciousness — i. e. excite sensations— 
when they reach the Sensorium ; and often excite respondent motions yrithout 
doing BO. 



38 Nervous Sy stein and its Fu7ictions. 

feience, and for their transmission to the ganglionic centres . 
whilst the other serves for the transmission of the impressions that ' 
call forth Muscular contraction, from the ganglionic centres to 
the various parts of the circumference. — In most Nerve-trunks, 
a f event and motor fibres are bound up together ; although, In 
the ordinary Spinal nerves of Vertebrata, these are connected 
by separate "roots" with the Spinal Cord which serves as 
their ganglionic centre (§ 62). But the nerves of special sense 
(the Olfactive, Optic, and Auditory), which proceed to those special 
ganglionic centres of which the aggregate constitutes the Sen- 
Borium, contain no motor fibres ; and there are other nerves of the 
head in Vertebrata, which are either solely afferent or solely motor 
(Fig. 11). 

40. The analogy just indicated between the two components of 
every Nervous System, and the two parts of an Electric Telegraph, 
— that in which change originates, and that which serves as 
the conductor, — holds good to this further extent ; that as, for the 
origination of the Electric current, a certain Chemical reaction must 
take place between the exciting liquid and the galvanic combination 
of metals, so is it necessary, for the production of Nerve-force, that 
a reaction should take place between the Blood, on the one hand, 
and either the central nerve-cells, or the peripheral expansions 
of the nerve-fibres. We do not know, it is true, what is the 
precise nature of that reaction : but we have the evidence 
af it in the large supply of Blood which goes to all Organs of ♦ 
Sense, — i.e., to organs which are adapted for receiving sensory 
impressions and transmitting them to the central Sensorium ; and, 
yet more, in the extraordinary proportion that is transmitted to 
those central organs which receive those impressions, render 
tlie Mind cognizant of them as Sensations, and furnish the 
instrumental conditions of all Psychical operations, as well as of 
their action upon the Body. Thus, in the case of Man, although 
the Brain has not ordinarily more than about one-fortieth of the 



Nervotcs Activity dependent on Blood-supply, 39 

»eeiglit of the body, yet it is estimated to receive from one-sixth to 
one-fifth of the whole circulating Blood. 

41. The immediate dependence of the production of Nerve-force 
upon a reaction between the Nerve-substance and the Blood, is 
proved by the effects of suspension of the circulation, whether 
local or general. Thus, if the supply of blood to a limb be 
temporarily interrupted (as by pressure on its main artery), 
numbness, or diminution of Sensibility, is perceived in it, as 
well as loss of Muscular power (the hand or foot being " asleep "), 
until the circulation is re-established. The effect of complete 
interruption to the blood-supply of the Brain is extremely re- 
markable. That supply is conveyed into the cavity of the skull of 
Man and of the higher Vertebrata by four arterial trunks, which 
enter it at no great distance from one another, and then unite into 
the " circle of Willis ;" from which are given off the various branches 
that distribute arterial blood to every part of the brain-substance. 
After traversing this, the blood returns by the veins, greatly 
altered in its chemical composition ; especially as regards the loss of 
free Oxygen, and its replacement by various oxy-compounds of 
Carbon, Hydrogen, Phosphorus, &c., that have been formed by a 
process analogous to combustion. Now if one, two, or three of the 
arterial trunks be tied, the total quantity of blood supplied to 
the brain is diminished ; but in virtue of the " circle of Willis," no 
part is entirely deprived of blood ; and the functional activity of the 
brain, though enfeebled, is still maintained. If, however, the /oi^ri^A 
artery be compressed so as entirely to prevent the passage of blood, 
there is an immediate and complete suspension of activity, the animal 
becoming as unconscious as if it had been stunned by a severe blow ; 
whilst it recovers as soon as the blood is again allowed to flow 
through the artery. In fact, the " stunned " state produced by a 
blow on the head, is only secondarily dependent upon the effect of 
that blow on the Brain, which may have sustained no perceptible 
injury whatever ; the state of insensibility being due to the paralysis 



40 Nervous System and its Ftmctions, 

of the Heart and suspension of the Circulation, induced bj the 
" shock." For the like insensibility may be the result of a blow 
on the " pit of the stomach " (acting on the great Solar plexus 
of nerves, § 112), or of the shock of some overpowering mental 
Emotion, either of which produces the like paralysis of the heart. 
Further, if the blood transmitted to the brain, though not deficient 
in quantity, be depraved in quality by the want of Oxygen and the 
accumulation of Carbonic acid (as happens in Asphyxia), there is a 
gradually increasing torpor of the mental faculties, ending in com- 
plete insensibility. (See also § 472, and Appendix.) 

42. Thus, then, the dependence of Nervous power and of Mental 
activity upon the Physical changes kept up by the Circulation of 
oxygenated Blood through the brain, can be shown experimentally 
to be just as direct and immediate, as is the dependence of the 
Electric activity of a Galvanic battery upon the analogous changes 
taking place between its Metals and its exciting Liquid. And if we 
say that Electricity is the expression of Chemical change in the one 
3ase, how can we refuse to regard Thought as the expression of 
Chemical change in the other 1 — This view is not here advanced as 
explaining anyMental phenomenon. No Physicist would say that he 
can " explain " how it is that Electricity is generated by Chemical 
change : but he knows that such a relation of cause and effect 
exists between the two orders of phenomena, that every Chemical 
change is accompanied by a disturbance of Electricity ; and thus, 
whenever he witnesses Electric disturbance, he is led to look for 
some Chemical change as its Physical cause. And in precisely the 
same sense, and no other, the Physiologist must regard some 
change in the substance of the Brain as the immediate Physical 
antecedent of all automatic Mental action. — It is the attribute 
of the Will to utilize this automatic power of the Brain, as it 
utilizes that of the Muscles ; and thus to make the Ugo, in pro- 
portion as he has acquired the mastery over it, a " free agent " 
(§§ 25—28). 



Actions of Rhizopods. 



41 



Section 3. Different Forms and Modes of Action of the 
Nervous Apparatus. 
43. The simplest type of an Animal consists of a minute mass of 
*' protoplasm" or living jelly, which is not yet differentiated into 
" organs ; " every part having the same endowments, and taking an 
equal share in every action which the creature performs. One of 
these " jelly-specks," the Amoeba (Fig. 4), moves itself about by 
changing the form of its body, extemporising a foot (or pseudopo- 
dium) first in one direction and then in another ; and then, when 
it has met with a nutritive particle, extemporises a stomach for its 
reception, by wrapping its soft body around it. Another, instead of 

4. • 




Amceba in different forms, a, b, c, 
going about in search of food, remains in one place, but projects its 
protoplasmic substance into long pseudopodia (Fig. 5), which 
entrap and draw-in very minute particles, or absorb nutrient 
material from the liquid through which they extend themselves, and 
are continually becoming fused (as it were) into the central body, 
which is itself continually giving off new pseudopodia. — Now we 
can scarcely conceive that a creature of such simplicity should pos- 
sess any distinct consciousness of its needs, or that its actions should 



42 



Nervous System and its Functions. 



be directed by any intention of its own; and yet the Writer 
has lately found results of the most singular elaborateness to be 
wrought-out by the instrumentality of these minute ''jelly-specks," 

Fig. 5. 




GrROMIA, WITH EXTENDED PSEUDOPODIA. 

which build-up " tests " or casings of the most regular geometrical 
symmetry of form, and of the most artificial construction. 

a. Suppose a Human mason to he put down by the side of a pile 
of stones of various shapes and sizes, and to be told to build a 



Actions of Rhizopods. 43 

dome of those, smooth on both surfaces, without using more than the 
least possible quantity of a very tenacious but very costly cement in 
holding the stones together. If he accomplished this well, he would 
receive credit for great intelligence and skill. — Yet this is exactly 
what these little "jelly-specks" do on a most minute scale ; the 
" tests " they construct, when highly magnified, bearing comparison 
with the most skilful masonry of Man. From iht same sandy 
hottom, one species picks up the coarser quartz- grains, cements them 
together with phosphate of iron secreted from its own substance, 
and thus constructs a flask-shaped "test " having a short neck and 
a single large orifice. Another picks up the finest grains, and puts 
them together with the same cement into perfectly spherical " tests" 
of the most extraordinary finish, perforated with numerous small 
pores, disposed at pretty regular intervals. Another selects the 
minutest sand- grains and the terminal portions of sponge-spicules, 
and works these up together, — apparently with no cement at all, 
by the mere "laying" of the spicules, — into perfect white 
spheres, like homoeopathic globules, each having a single fissured 
orifice. And another, which makes a straight many- chambered 
** test," that resembles in form the chambered shell of an Orthoce- 
ratite — the conical mouth of each chamber projecting into the 
cavity of the next, — while forming the walls of its chambers of 
ordinary sand-grains rather loosely held together, shapes the 
conical mouths of the successive chambers by firmly cementing 
together grains of ferruginous quartz, which it must have picked 
out from the general mass. 

To give these actions the vague designation "instinctive," does 
not in the least help us to account for them ; since what we 
want, is to discover the meclianism by which they are worked 
out ; and it is most difficult to conceive how so artificial a selec- 
tion can be made by a creature so simple. 

6. The Writer has often amused himself and others, when by the 
sea-side, with getting a Terehella (a marine Worm that cases its 
body in a sandy tube) out of its house, and then, putting it into 
a saucer of water with a supply of sand and comminuted shell, 
watching its appropriation of these materials in constructing a new 



44 Nervous System and its Ftmctions. 

tube. The extended tentacles soon spread themselves over the 
bottom of the saucer, and lay hold of whatever comes in their 
way, *'all being fish that comes to their net;" and in half an 
hour or thereabouts the new house is finished, though on a very 

rude and inartificial type. Now here the organization is far 

higher; the instrumentality obviously serves the needs of the 
ftuimal, and suffices for them; and we characterize the action, 
on account of its uniformity and its apparent tm-intelligence, 
as Instinctive. 



44. We can only surmise that, in these humble Ehizopods, as the 
whole of each "jelly-speck" possesses the attribute of con- 
tractility elsewhere limited to Muscles, so may the attributes 
which are restricted in the higher types of Animal life to the 
Nervous apparatus, be there diffused through every particle, — 
the whole protoplasmic substance being endowed in a low degree 
with that power of receiving, conducting, and reacting upon 
external impressions, which is raised to a much more exalted 
degree when limited or specialized in the Nervous system. As 
we ascend the Animal series, and meet with a progressive 
differentiation of special structures, the general substance of the 
body loses the endowments which characterize it in the Rhizopod ; 
and wherever we find a definite Muscular apparatus with Sensory 
organs, there is a strong presumption that there must also be a 
definite Nervous system, whose action may be purely internuncial, 
—that of calling forth Muscular movements in respondence to the 
impressions made by external agencies. The apparent absence 
of a Nervous system is. doubtless to be attributed in many 
instances to the general softness of the tissues of the body, 
wliich prevents it from being clearly made-out among them. 
And -v* e might justly expect to find it bearing a much smaller 
proportion to the entire structure, in these lowest Animals whose 
functions are chiefly Vegetative, than in the higher classes, in 
which the vegetative functions merely serve for . the develop- 




Nervo -muscular Actions of Ascidimis. 45 

ment and subsequent maintenance of the Apparatus of Animal 
life (§ 30). 

45. Perhaps the simplest form of a definite Nervous system 
is that presented by the Ascidian Mollusks : 
for, their bodies not possessing any repetition ^^' 

of similar parts, — either around a common 
centre as in the Star-fish, or longitudinally 
as in the Centipede, — their Nervous system is 
destitute of that multiplication of ganglia 
which we see in those animals; whilst the 
limited nature of their Animal powers in- 
volves a corresponding simplicity in their 
instrument. An Ascidian (Fig. 6) consists 

essentially of an external membranous bag 

Nervous system of 
or " mantle, withm which is a Muscular ascidian :-a, moutli : 

envelope, and again within this a Respiratory h, vent ; c, ganglion ; 
sac, which may be considered as the dilated ^' muscular sac. 
pharynx of the animal. At the bottom of this last is the entrance 
to the stomach, which, with the other viscera, lies at the lower end 
of the muscular sac. The external envelopes have two orifices ; a 
mouth (a) to admit water into the pharyngeal sac ; and a vent 
(6) for the expulsion of the water which has served for respira- 
tion, and of that which has passed through the alimentary canal, 
together with the feecal matter, the ova, &c. A current of 
water is continually being drawn into the pharyngeal sac, by the 
vibration of the cilia that line it ; and part of this is driven into 
the stomach, conveying to it the necessary supply of aliment in 
a very finely divided state ; whilst a part is destined merely for 
the aeration of the circulating fluid, and is transmitted more 
directly to the vent after having served that purpose. These 
animals are for the most part fixed to one spot, during all save 
the earliest period of their existence ; and they give but little 
external manifestation of life, beyond the continual entrance and 



4-6 Nervous System and its Functions. 



exit of the currents just mentioned, which, being driven by ciliary 
action, are altogetlier independent of the Nervons system. When 
any substance, however, the entrance of which would be injurious, 
ie drawn-in by the current, its presence excites a general con- 
traction of the muscular envelope ; and this causes a jet of water 
to issue from one or both orifices, which carries the offending body 
to a distance. And in the same manner, if the exterior of the 
body be touched, the muscular envelope suddenly and violently 
contracts, and expels the contents of the sac. 

46. These are the only actions, so far as we know, to which 
the Nervous system of these animals is subservient. They 
scarcely exhibit a trace of eyes, or of other organs of special 
sense ; and the only parts that appear peculiarly sensitive, are the 
small "tentacula" or feelers that guard the oral orifice. Between the 
two apertures in the mantle we find a solitary ganglion (c), which 
receives branches from both orifices, and sends others over the 
muscular sac {d). This simple apparatus seems to constitute the 
whole Nervous system of the animal; and it is fully sufficient 
to account for the movements which have been described. For the 
impression produced by the contact of any hard substance with 
the tentacula, or with the general surface of the mantle, being 
conveyed by the afferent fibres to this ganglion, will excite in it 
a motor impulse ; which, being transmitted to the muscular fibres 
of the contractile sac, as well as to those circular bands that 
surround the orifices and act as sphincters^ will call forth the 
movements in question. 

47. We have here a characteristic example of what is designated 
as the reUex action of a Nerve-centre ; being the response 
which it makes, through the motor fibres, to the impression that 
has been conveyed to it by the afferent or excitor fibres, — the 
whole constituting what has been termed the nervous circle. This 
response is purely automatic or involuntary ; depending, like the 
contraction of a Muscle stimulated by electricity, upon the 



Reflex Actions of Cong/nng and Swallozving, 47 

mherent endowments of the Nervous apparatus. Whether such 
" reflex action " is or is not attended with Consciousness, depends 
on the other endowments of the ganghon which performs it ; but 
it is certain that actions which seem to indicate a definite purpose 
and will, may be called forth by mere stimulation, under circm 
stances which forbid us to attribute them to anything else than 
the automatic and unconscious action of the Nerve-centre (§ QQ).- — 
Now the contraction of the muscular sac of the Ascidian, when 
called forth hj the entrance of some irritating particle through 
the oral orifice, has its precise parallel in the act of coughing 
in ourselves. This is a combined succession of Kespiratory 
movements, consisting of (1) a full inspiration ; (2) a closure of 
the glottis (or aperture of the windpipe) ; and (3) the bursting 
open of the glottis by a violent expiratory blast, so that the 
offending body (such as a particle of food, or a drop of liquid, 
that has "gone the wrong way," — or an irritating vapour that 
has been drawn in with the breath, — or a morbid secretion 
from the membrane of the air-passages) may be forcibly ejected. 
Now we are constantly made aware by our own experience, 
how completely automatic this action is ; for not only is it per- 
formed without any will of our own, but even against the 
strongest volitional effort we may make to restrain it ; and 
when we cough voluntarily, as to give a signal, or to put down 
a tedious speaker, we simply make use of the automatic apparatus. 
We could not ourselves devise or imagine anything better adapted 
than the above combination, to produce the required result. 
Yet that combination is assuredly made /or us, not 63/ us. i\ii 
Infant coughs prior to all experience; and even in a state of 
entire insensibility, provided the patient can still swallow, coughing 
will be excited by the passage of any of the food or drink "the 
wrong way.'' 

48. The act of swallowing affords another example of the same 

reflex action ; for though we are accustomed to regard it aa 

8 



48 Nervous System and its Ftmctions, 

altogether voluntary, inasmuch as we only swallow when we choose, 
yet it is not so in reality. For what the Will does, is to caiTy 
back the particle to be swallowed, by a movement of the tongue, 
so as to bring it into contact with the membrane lining the 
pharynx ; and this contact serves to call the muscles of the pharynx 
into automatic action, whereby the particle is grasped and 
carried downwards into the gullet. It has several times happened 
that a feather, with which the back of the mouth was being 
tickled in order to excite vomiting (another form of reflex action), 
having been carried down a little too far, has been thus grasped by 
the pharyngeal muscles, and drawn out of the fingers of the 
operator. — In sucldng, again, there is a combination of respiratory 
movements, producing the vacuum which draws forth the milk, 
with the movements by which it is swallowed ; and the whole 
CJombination is a purely reflex action, performed by the instru- 
mentality of a ganglionic centre which forms no part of the Brain 
proper, and called-forth by the contact, either of the nipple of the 
mother, or of something which produces the like impression, with 
the lips of the offspring (§ 69). — This last act is sometimes spoken 
of as instinctive, and has been even taken as a type of that class 
of operations ; and in the broad sense of the term Instinct, it 
may doubtless be so regarded. But, in common with the 
ordinary and extraordinary movements of respiration, with 
swallowing, and, with many other actions that are immediately 
C5oncerned in the maintenance of the Organic functions, it may be 
executed unconsciously ; requiring nothing for its performance bvt 
an automatic Mechanism of nerves and muscles, which, m its 
normal state, responds as precisely to the stimulus made upon 
it, as the Locomotive steam-engine does to the directing actions of 
its driver. — The actions to which it seems preferable to limit the 
term instinctive, are those to which the prompting is given by 
iensations. These are not less "reflex'' than the preceding in 
their essential nature, being the automatic responses given by the 



Nervous System of Mo Husks. 49 

NervoMS mechanism to the impreg>^sions made upon it, in virtue 
of its original or acquired endowments \ but the Nerve-centres 
concerned in them being of a higher order, their reflex activity 
cannot be called forth without affecting the consciousness of the 
Animal that executes them (§§ 57, 77, 78). 

49. In ascending through the Molluscous series, we find the 
Nervous system increasing m complexity, in accordance with the 
increasing complexity of the general organization ; the addition of 
new organs of special Sensation, and of new parts to be moved 
by Muscles, involving the addition of new ganglionic centres, 
whose functions are respectively adapted to these purposes. The 
possession of a distinct head, in which are located the organs of 
Vision, the rudimentary organs of Hearing, and the organs (if any 
such exist) of Smell and Taste, constitutes the distinction, between 
the two primary divisions of the series, — the cephalous and the 
acephalous; the Snail and Whelk being typical examples of the 
former, the Oyster and Cockle of the latter. In the Cephalous 
Mollusks, we always find a pair of ganglia situated in the head ; 
which pair, termed the cephalic ganglia, is really made up of 
several distinct ganglionic centres, and is connected by cords that 
pass round the oesophagus, with other ganglia disposed in various 
parts of the trunk. Still, generally speaking, the Nervous system 
bears but a small proportion to the whole mass of the body ; 
and the ganglia which minister to its general movements, are 
often small in proportion to those which serve some special 
purpose, such as the actions of Respiration. This is what we 
should expect from the general inertness of the character of 
these animals (typified by the term sluggish), and from the small 
fttnount of Muscular structure which they possess. 

50. Again, we find no other multiplication of similar centres, than 
a doubling on the two sides of the body ; excepting in a few cases 
m which the organs they supply are correspondingly multiplied, — ■ 
as in the arms of the Cuttle-fish, which are furnished with great 



50 Nervotts System and its Fzmctions. 

numbers of contractile suckers, every one possessing a ganglion 
of its own. Here we can trace very clearly the distinction 
between the reflex actions of each individual sucker, depending 
upon the powers of its own ganglion ; and the actions prompted 
by Sensation, which are called forth through its connection with 
the Cephalic ganglia. For the Nerve-trunk which proceeds to 
each arm may be distinctly divided into two tracts ; one containing 
the ganglia which appertain to the suckers and are connected with 
them by distinct filaments ; whilst the other consists of fibres that 
form a direct communication between these and the Cephalic 
ganglia. Thus each sucker has a separate relation with a ganglion 
of its own, whilst all are alike connected with the Cephalic ganglia, 
and are placed under their control ; and we see the results of this 
arrangement, in the mode in which the contractile power of the 
suckers may be called into operation. When the animal embraces 
any substance with its arm (being directed to this action by its 
Sight or some other sensation), it can bring all the suckers simul- 
taneously to bear upon it ; evidently by a determinate impulse 
transmitted along the connecting cords that proceed from the 
Cephalic ganglia to the ganglia of the suckers. On the other 
hand, any individual sucker may be made to contract and attach 
itself, by placing a substance in contact with it alone ; and this 
action will take place equally well when the arm is separated from 
the body, or even in a small piece of the arm when recently 
severed from the rest,— thus proving that when it is directly 
excited by an impression made upon itself, it is a reflex act, quite 
mdependent of the Cephalic ganglia, not involving Sensation, and 
takhig place through the medium of its own ganglion alone.* 
51. In the Articulated series, on the other hand, in whi';h rbe 

* A veiy curious example of the independent activity of the gangliated coi<l in 
the arm of the Cuttle-fish, and of its similarity, both in structure and action, to 
the ventral cord of Articulata, is presented in the detached Hectocotylus-axm 
of the male of the Argonaut (Paper-Nautilus), which, when first discovered, 
was mistaken for a Worm. 



Struchire of Ventral Cord of Articulata. 51 



Locomotive apparatus is highly developed, and its actions are of 
the most energetic kind, we find the Nervous system almost 
entirely subservient to this function. In its usual foim, it consists 
of a chain of ganglia connected by a double cord ; commencing in 
the head, and passing backwards through the body (Fig. 7). 
The ganglia, though they usually appear single, are really double ; 
being composed of two equal halves closely united on the median 
line. In general we find a ganglion in each segment, giving-off 
nerves to the muscles of the legs, as in Insects, j,. ^ 
Centipedes, &c. ; or to the muscles that move 
the rings of the body when no extremities are 
developed, as in the Leech, Worm, &c. In the 
lower Vermiform (or worm-like) tribes, especially 
in the marine species, the number of segments is 
frequently very great, amounting even to several 
hundreds ; and the number of ganglia increases m 
the same proportion. But whatever be their 
degree of multiplication, they seem but repeti- ^ 
tions of one another ; the functions of each segment 
being the same with those of the rest. The 
cephalic ganglia, however, are ahvays larger and 
more important ; they are connected with the 
organs of special Sense ; and they evidently possess 
a power of directing and controlling the movements 
of the entire body, whilst the power of each 
ganglion of the trunk is for the most part con- 
fined to its own segment. 

0-1. The Cephalic ganglia lie above the mouth, in 
the immediate neighbourhood of the eyes, with 
which they are connected by nerve-trunks. And from the constancy 
of the relation between the size of these ganglia and the development 
of the Visual organs, it cannot be doubted that they are to be 
regarded as essentially optic ganglia, though also containing the 



GrANGLIATED 
KKKVOUS CORD 
OF CENTIPEDE. 



52 Nervous System and its Ftmctions. 

ganglionic centres of the nerves of other Senses, altogether con- 
stituting the Sensorium. — These Cephalic ganglia are connected with 
the ganglion of the first segment of the trunk, by a band on either 
Bide ; and the pair of bands, with the ganglia above and below, form 
a ring through which the oesophagus passes, so that the chain of 
giiTiglia comes to lie nearer the lower or ventral surface, beneath 
the alimentary canal, instead of just beneath the dorsal surface, 
above the alimentary canal, which is the position of the Spinal 
cord of Vertebrata. Hence the longitudinal gangliated chain 
of Articulated animals is often distinguished as the ventral 
cord. 

53. A marked difference is observable in the arrangement of the 
ganglia of the Ventral cord, according as the act of Locomotion 
is performed by muscles uniformly repeated through the succes- 
sive segments of the body, as in the crawling of the Maggot or 
Caterpillar ; or by the muscles of special appendages, attached to 
particular segments, as in the perfect Insect. In the former case, 
the ganglionic chain is uniform throughout ; whilst in the latter, 
the ganglia of tne thorax, with which are connected the nerves that 
supply the. legs and wings, are greatly increased in size, whilst 
those of the abdomen, the segments of which no longer take any 
share in the act of locomotion, are proportionally reduced. The 
change from one condition to the other takes place during the 
metamorphosis. — When the structure of ^he Ventral cord is more 
particularly inquired into, it is found to consist of two distinct 
tracts ; one of which, composed of nerve-fibres only, passes backwards 
from the Cephalic ganglia over the surface of all the ganglia of the 
trunk : whilst the other includes the collections of nerve-cells which 
constitute ganglia. Hence every part of the body has two sets of 
nervous connections ; one with the ganglion of its own segment 
Rnd another with the Cephalic ganglia. Each of the ganglia of the 
Ventral cord ministers to the reflex actions of its own segment, 
and, to a certain extent also, to those of other segments : for by 



Reflex Actions of Articulata. 53 

the peculiar arrangement of the fibres of the Cord, an impression 
conveyed by an afferent fibre to any one of these ganglia may 
excite contraction in the muscles of the &ame side of its own seg- 
ment, or in those of the opposite side, or in those of segments at 
a greater or less distance, according to the point at whicli the 
motor fibres leave the cord. On the other hand, impressions 
made upon the aff'erent fibres which proceed from any part of the 
body to the Cephalic ganglia, give rise to sensations when conveyed 
to the latter; whilst, in response to these, the influence of 
the Sensations received through the Cephalic ganglia, being reflected 
through the motor fibres proceeding from them, harmonizes and 
directs the general movements of the body. 

54. The general conformation of Articulated animals, and the 
arrangement of the parts of their Nervous system, render them 
peculiarly favourable subjects for the study of the reflex actions ; 
some of the principal phenomena of which will now be described. — 
If the head of a Centipede be cut off whilst it is in motion, the 
body will continue to move onwards by the action of its legs ; 
and the same will take place in the separate parts, if the body be 
divided into several distinct portions. After these actions have 
come to an end, they may be excited again by irritating any part 
of the Nerve-centres, or the cut extremity of the nervous cord. 
The body is moved forwards by the regular and successive action 
of the legs, as in the natural state ; but its movements are always 
forwards, never backwards, and are only directed to one side when 
the forward movement is checked by an interposed obstacle. 
Hence, although they might seem to indicate Consciousness and a 
guiding Will, they do not do so in reality; for they are performed 
as (t were "mechanically;" and show no direction of ohjsct, uo 
avoidance of danger. If the body be opposed in its progress by 
an obstacle of not more than half of its own height, it mounts 
over it and moves directly onwards, as in its natural state ; but if 
the obstacle be equal to its own height, its progress is arrested, 



54 Nervous System and its Fitnctions, 

and the cut extremity of the body remains forced-up agaiost the 
opposing substance, the leys still continuing to move, — If, again, 
the Ventral cord of a Centipede be divided in the middle of the 
trunk, so that the hinder legs are cut off from connection with 
tiie Cephalic ganglia, they will continue to move, but not in 
harmony with those of the fore-part of the body; being completely 
paralysed, as far as the animal's controlling power is concerned, 
though still capable of performing reflex movements by the 
influence of their own ganglia, which may thus continue to propel 
the body in opposition to the determinations of the animal itself. 
— The case is still more remarkable when the Ventral cord 
is not merely divided, but a portion of it is entirely removed 
from the middle of the trunk : for the anterior legs still remain 
obedient to the animal's control ; the legs of the segments 
from which the nervous cord has been removed are altogether 
motionless ; whilst those of the posterior segments continue to 
act through the reflex powers of their own ganglia, in a manner 
which shows that the animal has no power of checking or directing 
them. 

55. Another curious phenomenon of this kind is presented by 
the Mantis, a large Insect allied to the Grasshoppers and Crickets, 
but of less active habits ; its conformation fitting it to lie in wait 
for its prey, rather than to go in search of it. The first segment 
of its thorax is greatly prolonged, and is furnished with a pair of 
large and strong legs, ending in sharp claws ; whilst the two 
posterior segments, and the legs attached to them, are of the 
ordinary type. From its resting on these last, and lifting up 
the first segment, with its legs stretched out as arms, in the 
attitude of prayer, though really in readiness for the capture of 
prey, the Mantis is regarded by the peasantry'' of Italy and the 
South of France, where it is common, with superstitious veneration, 
under the name of Prie-Dieu, and has hence acquired the specific 
aame of religiosa. Now, if the head be cut off, the body still 



Reflex Actions of Insects, 55 

retains its position, and resists attempts to overthrow it ; while 
the arms close round anything that is introduced between them, 
and mpress their claws upon it. But farther, if the first segment 
of the thorax with its attached jaembers be cut off, the posterior 
part of the body wih still remain balanced upon the four legs that 
Biipport it, not only resisting any attempts to overthrow it, but 
tv5C0vering its position when disturbed, and performing the same 
agitated movements of the wings and wing-covers as when the 
entire Insect is irritated ; while the arms attached to the separated 
segment of the thorax will still act in the manner just described. 
Hence it is obvious that the ordinary movements of this Insect 
immediately depend on the reflex powers of the ganglia of the 
Ventral cord ; and that while the prey is actually captured by 
their instrumentality, the control exercised over these movements 
by the Cephalic ganglia serves to direct them towards the prey, — ■ 
just as our own movements in walking, which are themselves 
acquired reflex actions of the Spinal cord (§ 71), are still directed 
by the Sight, while maintained without either Volitional or even 
conscious effort. 

56. The stimulus to the Reflex movements of the legs, in the 
foregoing cases, appears to be given by the contact of the extre- 
mities with the solid surface on which they rest. In other cases, 
the appropriate impression can only be made by the contact of 
liquid : thus a Dytiscus (a kind of water-beetle) from which the 
Cephalic ganglia had been removed, remained motionless so long as 
it rested upon a dry surface ; but when cast into water, it executed 
the usual swimming motions with great energy and rapidity, 
striking all its comrades to one side by its violence, and persisting 
in these for mere than half an hour. — Other movements, again, may 
be excited through the Respiratory surface. Thus, if the head of 
a Centipede be cut off, and, while the trunk remains at rest, some 
irritating vapour (such as that of ammonia or muriatic acid) be 
caused to enter the air-tubes on one side of it through the spiracles 



56 Nervous System and its Ftmctions. 

or breathiug-pores of that side, the body will be immediately 
bent in the opposite direction, so as to withdraw itself as much as 
possible from the influence of the vapour ; if the same irritation be 
then applied on the other side,. the reverse movement will take- 
place ; and the body may be caused to bend in two or three dif- 
ferent curves, by bringing the irritating vapour into the neighbonr- 
hood of different parts of either side. This movement is evidently 
(like the acts of Coughing and Sneezing in the higher animals, 
§ 47) a reflex one, and serves to withdraw the entrances of the 
air-tubes from the source of irritation. 

57. From these and similar facts it appears that the ordinary 
movements of the legs and wings of Articulated animals are of a 
simply-reflex nature, being effected solely through the ganglia 
with which these organs are severally connected ; whilst in the 
perfect creature they are harmonized, controlled, and directed by 
the guidance they receive from the Cephalic ganglia, which 
combines them into those composite movements which are dis- 
tinguished as instinctive. This designation is now properly re- 
stricted to actions which, being performed without any guidance 
from experience, and executed in precisely the same manner 
(when the circumstances are similar) by all the individuals of a 
species, must be regarded as proceeding from an innate or con- 
stitutional tendency, corresponding with that which prompts our 
own pnmarily-automatic movements (§ 15). Instinctive actions, 
then, are as truly "reflex " in their character as are those we have 
been already considering, but differ from them only in their 
greater complexity ; a combination of many separate impressions 
being- needed to call them forth, and a combination of many 
distinct movements being concerned in their execution. The 
special directing power exerted by the Cephalic ganglia obviously 
depends upon their Sensorial attributes ; for the directness of 
their connection with the organs of special Sense, and the con- 
Btancy of the proportion which their size bears to the develop- 



Instinctive Actions of Insects. 57 

ment of the Eyes, places it beyond doubt that they furnish the 
instrumentality whereby (1) the Animal is rendered conscious of 
Sense- impressions, and (2) that Consciousness prompts and directs 
its actions. Thus the truly Instinctive actions of the lower 
Animals correspond in character with the Sensori-motor or con- 
sensual actions in Man (§§78, 79), but constitute a far larger 
proportion of their entire life-work. In fact, it would appear 
that Instinct culminates in the Articulated series, and especially 
in the class of Insects; just as Intelligence does in the Verte- 
BRATED series, of which Man is the highest representative. In 
proportion as Instinct predominates, may we predict with cer- 
tainty the actions of the individual, when we know the life-history 
of the species ; its whole aim being to work out a design which 
is formed /or it, not by it, and the tendency to which is embodied 
(as it were) in its organization. In proportion, on the other hand, 
as the lower animals possess any share of the Rational nature 
of Man, which enables them to profit by experience, the mental 
processes which determine their actions become more complex and 
seem more variable in their results, so that our power of accurate 
prediction proportionally diminishes. Of this we have a curious 
ilhistration in the contrast between the Architectural operations 
of Insects and those of Birds (§ 82). 

58. The most remarkable examples of instinctive action that 
the entire Animal Kingdom can furnish, are presented in the 
operations of Bees, Wasps, Ants, and other Social Insects ; which 
construct habitations for themselves upon a plan which the most 
enlightened Human intelligence, working according to the most 
refined geometrical principles, could not surpass ; but which 
yet do so without education communicated by their parents, 
or progressive attempts of their own, and witli no trace of 
hesitation, confusion, or interruption ; the several individuals 
of a community all labouring effectively to one common end, 
because their Instinctive or Consensual impulses are the sama 



Nervoics System and its Fzmt tions. 



■ — It mighty indeed, be argued in the case oi Uive-Bees (on whose 
life-history our notions of the range of Instinct are chiefly founded), 
that the extraordinary perfection of their workmanship, and the 
uniformity of the course they take under each of a great variety of 
contingencies, are to be accounted for by the experiential acquire- 
ment of knowledge, progressively improved, and transmitted from 
one generation to another ; but this cannot possibly be admitted in 
the case of certain of the solitary Bees. For with regard to these it 
may be positively affirmed that the offspring can know nothing of 
the construction of its nest, either from its own experience, or 
from instruction com.municated by its parent ; so that when it 
makes a nest of the very same pattern, we cannot regard it as 
anything else than a machine acting in accordance with its 
Nervous organization, — unless we suppose its actions to be directly 
prompted by "an overruling mind or purpose" outside itself, 
which takes them out of the category of Scientific investigation. — 
Still, that even Insects can learn by experience, must be obvious 
to those who study the actions of Bees when they have been 
newly hived ; for if the hive be placed among several others 
having similar entrances, the bees are obviously undecided, fur 
the first few days, which entrance to make for ; but soon come to 
recognize their own, as is shown by the straightness of their 
flio-ht towards it. And Sir John Lubbock has succeeded in taming 
a Wasp to perform various actions that indicated a jmrposive 
direction guided by its individual experience. 

59. In the change from the lar^va to the perfect or imago 
state of the Insect, besides the modifications already noted (§ 53), 
\ ho Cephalic ganglia undergo a great increase in size. This evidently 
has reference to the increased development of the organs of special 
Sense in the latter ; the Fyes being much more perfectly formed, 
Antennae and other appendages used for feeling being evolved, and 
oro-ans of Hearing and Smell being added. In respondence to 
the new sensations which the animal must thus acquire, a great 



histihctive Actions of Insects. 59 



number of new instinctive actions are manifested ; indeed it may 
be said that the instincts of the perfect Insect have frequently 
nothing in common with those of the Larva. The former chieliy 
relate to the acts of reproduction, and to the provisions requisite 
for the deposit and protection of the eggs and for the early nutrition 
of the young ; the latter have reference solely to the acquirement 
of food. The larva^ indeed, may be regarded as a mere active 
embryo, which comes forth from the egg in an extremely immature 
condition, and then, having taken into itself an enormous amount 
of additional nutriment, goes back (as it were) into the quiescent 
state, in which this store of nutriment is applied to the develop- 
ment of the organs that characterize the perfect Insect. And 
there is evidence of an extremely curious kind, that the course of 
that development, and the nature of the instinctive tendencies 
which show themselves in the mature individual, are capable 
of being determined in certain cases by conditions purely 
Physical : — 

a. The *' workers " among Hive-Bees are not really " neuters," but 
are undeveloped females ; every one of them being originally 2^ 'potential 
Queen. They differ from the queen, or fertile female, however, not 
merely in the non- development of the reproductive organs (which 
shows itself in the inferior length of the abdomen), but also in the 
possession of the *' pollen-baskets " on the thighs, which are used in 
the collection of pollen and propolis, and in the conformation of the 
jaws and antennse. But they differ yet more in their instincts ; for 
whilst the life-work of the Queen is to lay eggs, that of the Workers 
is to build cells for their reception, to collect and store up food, and 
to nurture the larvae, — this nurturing process being continued as a 
sort of incubation during the pupa-state. The Worker-larvse which 
come forth from the eggs that are laid in ordinary cells, are fed for three 
days upon a peculiar substance of jelly-like appearance, prepared in 
the stomachs of the workers; but afterwards upon *' bee-bread" 
composed of a mixture of honey and pollen. The Queen -larvse, on the 
other hand, are reared in larger royal cells of peculiar construction ; and 
they are fed during the whole of the larva-period upon the substance 



6o Nervous Sy stein and its Fu7tctions. 

prepared by the workers, whicla is hence known as '* roj-al jelly " 
The length of time occupied in their development is different; the 
preliminary stages of the Queen being passed through in sixteen days, 
whilst those of the Worker require twenty-one. 

h. Now it sometimes happens that, from some causes not under* 
stood, there is a failure in the production of young Queens, so that 
there are none forthcoming when wanted. The workers then select 
either worker-eggs or worker-larvse not yet three days old ; and 
around these they construct '* royal colls," by throwing together 
Beveral adjacent worker-cells, and destroying the larvae they 
contain. The selected larvae are fed with the ** royal jelly," and 
are treated in every respect as Queen-larvae ; and in due time they 
come forth as 'perfect Queens — tlius havirCg had not only their bodily 
organization, but their psychical nature, essentially altered by the nurture 
they have received. 

This last action is one which it is scarcely possible that 
either theory or experience could lead the Bees to perform : for 
not the most ingenious reasoning could have anticipated the fact, 
that by supplying a worker-larva with food of a different quality, 
and enlarging the cell around it, a change so remarkable should be 
produced in its structure, capacities, and instincts ; and the circum- 
stances of the case seem no less to forbid the notion that the Bees 
owe a knowledge of the process to experimental researches carried 
on either by themselves or by their ancestors, for the purpose of 
rocuring an artificial supply of queens when the natural supply 
fails. That recourse is uniformly had to it whenever the case 
requires, has been repeatedly shown by experiment ; the removal of 
the parent-queen and of the royal larvse from the hive, being always 
followed by the manufacture (so to speak) of worker-larvae into 
new queens. — The irrationality of the impulse which prompts the 
Bees to this action, is evidenced by its occasional performance 
under circumstances which, if they could reason, would have show n 
them that it must be ineffective. A case has been recorded, in 
which a Queen, having only laid drme or male eggs, was stung to 
death by the workers, who cast her body out of the hive ; but being 



Nervous System of Vertebrata. 6 1 

thus left without a queen, and no royal larvae being in process of 
development to replace her, the workers actually tried to obtain a 
queen by treating drone-lsirvsd in the usual manner, — of course 
without effect. 

60. Thus, then, while the Human organism may be likened 
to a keyed instrument, from which any music it is capable of 
producing can be called-forth at the will of the performer, we 
may compare a Bee or any other Insect to a barrel-organ, which 
plays with the greatest exactness a certain number of tunes 
that are set upon it, but can do nothing else. — The following 
fact, mentioned by Pierre Huber, affords a curious example of the 
purely automatic nature of instinctive action : — 

There is a Caterpillar that makes a very complicated hammock, 
the construction of which may be divided into six stages. One 
of these caterpillars which had completed its own hammock, having 
been transferred to another carried only to its third stage, completed 
this also by reperforming the fourth, fifth, and sixth stages. But 
another caterpillar taken out of a hammock which had been only 
carried to its third stage, and put into one already completed, 
appeared much embarrassed, and seemed forced to go back to the 
point at which it had itself left off, executing anew the fourth, fifth, 
and sixth stages which had been already wrought out. 

61. While perfection in the Articulated series consists in the 
high development of that portion of the Nervous system which ia 
immediately connected with the organs of Sense and of Motion, 
and which ministers to Instinct, perfection in the Vertebrated 
series shows itself in the high development of a superadded 
organ, the Cerebrum (Fig. 9), which is the instrument of In- 
telligence ; of this scarcely any trace is found in the Invertebrated 
classes, whilst but a mere rudiment presents itself in the lowest 
class of Vertebrata. — Notwithstanding the marked difference in 
general plan of structure between an Insect and a Fish, the 
Physiologist recognizes a close correspondence in the essential 
characters of their Nervous systems. For the Spinal cord of th« 



62 Nervous System and its Functions. 



latter is but a coiitiniious series of ojanglionic centres, directly 
coDiiected with the Muscular apparatus of locomotion ; whilst 
its Brain consists of several pairs of ganglia, which are for 
the most part, like the Cephalic ganglia of Insects, the imme- 
diate centres of the Sensory nerves. The Spinal cord (commonly 
termed the spinal marrow) is not, as was formerly supposed, 
& mere bundle of Nerves proceeding from the Brain ; for, 
whilst serving to connect the Brain with the Nerve-trunks that 
supply the body generally, it is also an independent centre 
of reflex action. Although externally composed of longi- 
tudinal strands of fibrous substance, which, like that of the 
Nerve-trunks, acts mainly as a conductor of Nerve-force (§ 35), 
contains a sort of core of ganglionic substance, which en- 
larges in the parts of the Cord that give off the nerve-trunks 
supplying the locomotive members (§ 64). Although there 
is no actual division of this ganglionic matter into separate 
segments, as in the gangliated Ventral cord of Articulata (§ 51), 
yet their segmental division is marked in the regular succession of 
pairs of nerve- trunks (Fig. 1), which issue from it between the suc- 
cessive Vertebrae that make up the Spinal column. And these 
Nerve -trunks, like those of the gangliated cord of Articulata (§ 53), 
have two sets of connections with it : some of their fibres being 
traceable into its ganglionic substance, which is the centre of 
the reflex actions of each particular segment ; whilst others are 
connected with its fibrous strands, and either pass into the 
ganglionic substance of the Cord at some distance above or below, 
or proceed continuously upwards towards the Brain. Thus, 
of their afferent fibres, some call forth reflex actions, either 
through their own segment of the Spinal cord, or through other 
segments above or below ; whilst others convey those impressions 
to the Sensorium, which there call forth Sensations. And of their 
motor fibres, some are excited to action by the reflex power of 
the segment of the Cord from which they seem to issue, and 



Affei^ent and Motoi^ Nerves. 63 

others by that of segments above or below; whilst some execute the 
mandates of the Sensorial centres whose seat is in the head. 

^% It is only in Vertebrate animals that a distinctness can bo 
Bhown to exist between the afferent and the motor nerves : the proof 
of this distinctness being experimentally obtainable (1) throagh 
the separate origination of the two sets of fibres which are bound 
up in the trunlc of each Spinal Nerve, by two bundles of root^ 
(Fig. 11, 13, 14), of which the posterior are afferent, whilst the 
anterior are motor ; and (2) through the distinct functions of some 
of the Nerves of the Head, — of which the Third, Fourth, and 
Sixth pairs, which supply the muscles of the Eye, the Seventh 
pair, which supplies the muscles of the Face generally, and the 
Ninth pair, which supplies the muscles of the Tongue, are motor 
only, whilst the Fifth pair is the general sensory nerve of the Face, 
having motor fibres only in its third division, which supplies the 
muscles of Mastication (Fig. 11). These nerves arise from that 
upward prolongation of the Spinal cord into the cavity of the 
skull, which is known as the Medulla oblongata, and which 
corresponds with the two lateral cords that diverge in Articulata to 
let the oesophagus go through (§ «'52). As the whole Cerebro-spinal 
tract of Vertebrata lies between the Alimentary canal and the 
dorsal aspect of the body, there is no such divergence between the 
two lateral halves of their Medulla oblongata; but there is o. fissure 
between them, which, obvious enough in Fishes (Fig. 8), is almost 
entirely closed in the higher Vertebrata, and is completely covered 
in by the Cerebellum. It is in the Medulla oblongata that the 
special ganglionic centre of the reflex movements of Respira- 
tion is lodged : the afferent or excitor nerves from the lungs 
(the Par vagum, Fig. 11), as well as from the face, proceeding to 
It ; whilst other excitor fibres from the general surface, and 
the respondent motor fibres which call the respiratory muscles 
into action, are included in the ordinary nerve-trunks. 

63. We should form a very erroneous notion of what essentiallj 
9 



64 NcrvotLS System and its Fimctioiis, 

constitutes the hrain of a Vertebrated animal, and of the mutual 
relations of the aggregate of ganglionic centres of which it is 
composed, if we were only to study it in Man. For the gi'eat 
relative size and complexity of his Cerehrum tends to con- 
ceal the fundamental importance of those ganglionic centres on 
which it is superposed, and which constitute a no less essentiai 
part of his brain than they do of that of Fishes, although their 
proportional size is so much less, as to lead to their being 
commonly regarded as merely subordinate appendages to the 
Cerebrum. The Brain of a Fish is almost entirely composed 
of an aggregate of Ganglia of Sense, which may be regarded as 
collectively constituting its Sensorium, — that is, according to 
ordinary phraseology, the " seat of consciousness," but, more 
correctly, the Nerve-centre through the instrumentality of which 
the Ego becomes conscious of Sense-impressioijs. Putting aside 
the rudimentary Cerebrum, therefore, we may regard the Axial 
cord of the Fish (consisting of its Spinal cord with the Sensory 
ganglia) as the instrument, like the gangliated cord of the 
Insect, of its automatic movements ; of w^hich such as are 
executed through the Spinal centres do not involve Sensation, 
whilst in those of which the Sensory ganglia are the instruments. 
Sensation necessarily participates. When, on the other hand, in 
ascending the Vertebrate series from Fishes toward Man, we compare 
the different grades of development of the Cerebrum (Fig. 9) with the 
successively augmenting manifestations of intelligence (as exhibited 
in what we must regard as an intentiojial adaptation of means to 
ends under the direction of experience), we find so remarkable 
a correspondence, as scarcely to leave room for doubt that the 
Cerebrum is the instrument of those Psychical operations whicl 
we rank under the general designation rational. In proportion as 
the actions of an animal are directed by this endowment, the 
number of them that can be said to be primarily automatic, 
becomes not only relatively but absolutely limited ; although many 



Bi^ain of Vertebrata, 65 

actions (especially in Man) which were in the first instance initiated 
by the Will, come after long habit to be as truly Automatic as if 
they had been so originally (§ 71). 

64. In the curious little Amphioxus or Lancelet^ which is the 
lowest known type of a Vertebrate animal, there is nothing that 
can be properly called a Brain ; and we have here one of those 
"experiments prepared for us by Nature " (as Cuvier termed them), 
which show that the Axial cord is the fundamental portion of the 
Nervous apparatus of the Vertebrate animal, as it is the first in 
order of development. The Amphioxus, having no eyes, has no 
Optic ganglia ; and the Spinal cord has no ganglionic enlarge- 
ment, indicative of any speciality of function, where it enters the 
head. But the mouth is famished with a fringe of filaments, 
p^rhich are probably organs of Sense ; and the ganglionic centre 
of their nerves may be considered as the Sensorium. — In others 
of the lowest Fishes having a Cartilaginous skeleton and a 
uniform worm-like body, such as the Lamprey, the Spinal 
cord has a like uniformity throughout ; and the Brain consists 
merely of a cluster of ganglia within the skull, which scarcely bear 
a larger proportion to it, than do the Cephalic ganglia of Insects to 
the ganglia of their Ventral cord. But with the development of 
the Eyes and other organs of special Sense, we find the ganglionic 
centres of their nerves presenting a greatly increased size. The 
Brain of the Cod, viewed from above (Fig. 8, a), shows a series of 
three pairs of ganglia, lying in the same line with the Spinal cord : 
of which the first, ol, are the olf active ganglia, or centres of tlie 
sense of Smell ; while the third, op, which are the largest of all th 3 
ganglionic masses, are the optic ganglia, or centres of the sense of 
Sight. Between these is a pair of ganglionic masses, cA, which are 
usually designated as the rudiments of the Cerebral Hemispheres / 
but they may, perhaps, be more properly regarded as representing 
the bodies termed corpora striata, which, in the Brains of the 
higher Vertebrata, form part of that series of ganglionic masses 



66 



Nervous System and its Functions. 




lying along the floor of the skull, on which the Cerebrum is 
superposed (Figs. 12, 13). Behind the Optic ganglia is a single 
ganglionic mass, ce, the Cerehellum ; an organ which seems related 
rather to the regulation of the Movements of the Animal, tijan 
to its Psychical faculties, but of which the precise function has not 
Fig- S. been determined. The Spinal 

cord, s;p, is seen to be divided 
at the top by a fissure, which 
is most wide and deep beneath 
the Cerebellum, where there is a 
complete separation between its 
two halves. — In the Shark^ of 
which, though the skeleton is 
only cartilaginous, the general 
organization is very high, we find 

•*■ ® the olfactive ganglia, oL lying at 

Brains OP PISH :—A, Cod ; B, Shark • \. ^ ^ ' . , 

ol. Olfactory ganglia ; ch. Cerebral' «^"^^ distance in front of the 

ganglia ; op, Optic ganglia ; cc, Cerebral ganglia, ch, and con- 

Cerebellum ; sp, Spinal Cord. ^^^^^^ ^-^j^ ^^^^ ^^ peduncles or 

footstalks ; the cerebral Ganglia are not only relatively much 
larger, but contain a more distinct rudiment of true Hemispheres 
separated from the Corpora Striata by a " ventricle " or cavity ] 
the Cerebellum, too, is relatively larger. — In some Fish, separate 
ganglionic centres of the nerves of Hearing and Taste are found 
on the under side of the Brain ; whilst in others they are 
imbedded in the Medulla Oblongata, as is the case in Man. In 
the Vermiform Fishes, the Spinal cord is nearly uniform in size 
from one end to the other ; but in those which have powerful 
pectoral and ventral fins (the representatives of the fore and 
hind limbs of land-animals) there is an enlargement of the Spinal 
cord in the segments which are connected with the nerves of 
each of these pairs of members. 

Q5. In Reptiles we do not find any considerable advance in the 



Brain of Reptiles 



67 



development of the Brain, save that the Cerebral Hemispheres are 
somewhat larger, extending forwards so as to cover-in the Olfactive 
ganglia, and backwards so as partly to overlie the Optic ganglia 
(Fig. 9). The Cerebellum is almost invariably small, in conformity 
with the general inertness of these animals, and the want of variety 
in their movements. The Spinal cord is still very large in proportion 
to the Brain ; and experiment proves (as will b" -"/^aently shown) 
that the greater part of the ordinary movements of thes j animals are 
simply reflex, being excited through the afferent nerves proceed- 
ing to their ganglionic centre in the Spinal cord, which then reacts 
on the Muscles through the motor nerves. Where there is a unifor- 
mity of motor action through the whole series of Vertebral seg- 
ments, as in the Serpent, we find a uniformity in the size of the 
Spinal cord, and in the amount of ganglionic matter it contains, 
throughout its whole length, — ^just as in the Ventral cord of the 

Fig. 9,. 



„uu«uuii"ift\ujiiUuinm 



^x -•'- 




ov; 



Brain op turtle, with diagrammatic representation of the increased 
development of the Cerebrum in higher Vertebrata :— A, Olfactory 
ganglia ; b, Cerebral ganglia ; c, Optic ganglia ; d, Cerebellum ; 
E, Spinal Coi d ; olf, Olfactory nerve ; op, Optic nerve ; 3, Third 
pair ; 4, Fourth pair ; 5, Fifth pair. 

Centipede (§ 51). But where the locomotive power is delegated to 
limbs which are appendages of particular segments, we find specia 
ganglionic enlargements of the Spinal cord in those segments,— 



68 Nervous System and its Functions. 

just as in the Ventral cord of the perfect Insect (§ 53). Thus in 
the Lizards and Turtles, whose two pairs of members are nearly 
similar in locomotive power, we find an anterior and a posterior 
enlargement of the Spinal cord at the origins of their nerves ; 
whilst in the Frog, whose movements are chiefly effected by its 
hind legs, the posterior enlargement is the principal. 

^^. Asi^lii^ "1 been chiefly by experiments on Frogs and other 
Reptiles (iny'^ich the excitability of the Nervo-muscular apparatus 
is much longer retained after death than in warm-blooded animals) 
that the independent endowments of the Spinal cord as a centre 
of Reflex action, have been ascertained, it may be advantageous 
here to describe the results of these inquiries ; and to compare 
them with what has been learned from observation of the results 
of disease or accident in Man. — When the Brain has been removed, 
or its functions have been suspended by a severe blow upon the 
head, a variety of motions may still be excited by appropriate 
stimuli. Thus, if the foot be pinched, or burned with a lighted 
taper, it is withdrawn ; and (if the subject of the experiment be a 
Frog) the animal will leap away, as if to escape from the source of 
irritation. If the vent of a Frog be irritated with a probe, the 
hind-legs will endeavour to push it away. And if acetic acid be 
applied over the upper and inner part of the thigh, the foot of 
the same side will wipe it away ; but if that foot be cut off, after 
some ineffectual efforts and a short period of inaction, the same 
raovement will be made by the foot of the opposite side. 

67. Now the performance of these as well as of many other 
movements that show a most remarkable adaptation to a purpose, 
might be supposed to indicate that sensations are called- up by 
the impressions ; and that the animal can not only feel, but can 
voluntarily direct its movements, so as to get rid of the irritation 
which annoys it. But such an inference would be inconsistent 
with other facts. — In the first place, the motions performed by an 
animal under such circumstances are never spontaneous, but are 



Reflex Actions of Frog. 69 

always excited by a, stimulus of some kind. Thus, a decapitated 
Frog, after the first violent convulsive movements occasioned by 
th'j operation have passed away, remains at rest until it is touched ; 
and then the leg or its whole body may be thrown into sudden 
action, which immediately subsides again. Again, we find that 
such movements may be performed, not only when the Brain 
has been removed, the Spinal cord remaining entire, but also 
when the Spinal cord has been itself cut across, so as to be divided 
into two or more portions, each of them completely isolated 
from each other, and from other parts of the nervous centres. 
Thus, if the head of a Frog be cut-ofF, and its Spinal cord 
be divided in the middle of the back, so that its fore-legs remain 
connected with the upper part, and its hind-legs with the lower, 
each pair of members may be excited to movement by a stimulus 
applied to itself; but the two pairs will not exhibit any con- 
sentaneous motions, as they will do w^hen the Spinal cord is 
undivided. Or, if the Spinal cord be cut across, without the 
removal of the Brain, the low^er limbs may be excited to movement 
by an appropriate stimulus, though the animal has clearly no 
power over them ; whilst the upper remain under its control 
as completely as before. Now it is scarcely conceivable that, 
in this last case. Sensations should be felt and Volition exercised 
through the instrumentality of that portion of the Spinal cord 
which remains connected with the nerves of the posterior extre- 
mities, but which is cut-ofF from the Brain. For, if it were so, 
there must be two distinct centres of Sensation and Will in th© 
name animal, the attributes of the Brain not being affected ; and, 
'uy dividing the Spinal cord into two or more segments, we might 
thus create in the body of one animal two or more such inde- 
pendent centres, in addition to that which still holds its proper 
place within the head. To say that two or more distinct centres 
of Sensation and Will are present in such a case, would really 
be the same as saying that we have the power of constituting 



70 Nervous System and its Fimctions, 

two or more distinct Egos in one body, — which is manifestly 
absurd. 

68. But the best proofs of this limitation of the endowments of 
the Spinal Cord, are derived from the phenomena presente \ by the 
Human subject, in cases where that organ has suffered injury 
by disease or accident in the middle of the back. We find that 
when this injury has been severe enough to produce the effect 
of a complete division of the Cord, there is not only a total 
want of Volitional control over the lower extremities, but a 
complete absence of Sensibility also, — the individual not being 
in the least conscious of any impression made upon them. But 
when the lower segment of the Cord remains sound, and its 
nervous connexions witia the limbs are unimpaired, distinct reflex 
movements may be excited in the limbs by stimuli directly 
applied to them j and this without the least Sensation on the 
part of the patient, either of the cause of the movement, or of the 
movement itself : — 

a. Among the notes left by John Hunter, there was the record of 
a case of Paralysis of the lower extremities, in which it appeared 
that Hunter had witnessed reflex movements of the legs of the 
patient, occasioned by excitation which did not produce Sensation. 
When the patient was asked whether he felt the irritation by which 
the motions were excited, he significantly replied — glancing at his 
limbs, — "No, Sir, but you see my legs do." (Of this interesting 
fact, the Writer was informed by his friend Sir James Paget, to 
whom Hunter's notes furnished materials for the admirable Catalogue 
which he drew up of the Pathological portion of the Hunterian 
Museum.) 

6. In a case of Paralysis, recorded by Dr. William Bmid, in which 
iDJurious pressure on the Spinal cord in the back was produced 
by angular distortion of the spine, the sensibility of the legs was 
extremely feeble, and the power of voluntary motion was almost 
entirely lost. When, however, any part of the skin of the legs was 
pinched or pricked, the limb thus acted -on jumped with great viva- 
city ; the toes were retracted towards the instep, the foot raised on 



Reflex Actions in Man, 71 

the heel, and the knee so bent as to raise it off the bed ; the limb 
was maintained in this state of tension for several seconds after the 
withdrawal of the stimulus, and then became suddenly relaxed. 
In general, while one leg was convulsed, its fellow remained 
quiet, unless stimulus was applied to both at once. In these 
instances, the pricking and pinching were perceived by the patient ; 
but much more violent contractions were excited by a stimulus of 
whose presence he was unconscious. "When a feather was passed 
lightly over the skin, in the hollow of the instep, as if to tickle, 
convulsions occurred in the corresponding limb, much more vigorous 
than those induced by pinching or pricking ; they succeeded one 
another in a rapid series of jerks, and these were repeated as long 
as the stimulus was maintained. But when any other part of 
the limb was irritated in the same way, the convulsions which 
ensued were very feeble, and much less powerful than those induced 
by pricking or pinching. — This patient gradually regained both the 
sensibility of the lower extremities, and voluntary power over them ; 
and as voluntary power increased, the susceptibility to involuntary 
movements diminished, as did also their extent and power. — This 
case, then, exhibits an increased tendency to perform reflex 
actions, when the control of the Brain was suspended ; and it 
also shows that a slight impression upon the surface, of which 
the patient was not conscious, was more efficacious in exciting the 
A.utomatic movements, than were others of a more powerful nature 
which affected the Sensorium, 

c. In another case recorded by Dr. W. Budd, the Paralysis was more 
extensive and complete, having been produced by an injury (resulting 
from a fall into the hold of a vessel) at the lower part of the neck. 
There was at first a total loss of Yoluntary power over the lower 
extremities, trunk, and hands ; slight voluntary power remained in 
the wrists, rather more in the elbows, and still more in the shoulders. 
The Sensibility of the hands and feet was greatly impaired. Eecovery 
took place very gradually ; and during its progress, several remark- 
able phenomena of reflex action were observed. At first, tickling 
one sole excited to movement that limb only which was acted upon; 
afterwards, tickling either sole excited both legs, and, on the 26th 
day, not only the lower extremities, but the trunk and upper 
extremities also. Irritating the soles, by tickling or otherwise, waa 



72 Nervous System and its Functions. 

at first the only method, and always the most efficient one, by which 
convulsions could be excited. On the 4 let day, a hot plate of metal 
was applied to the soles, and was found to be a more powerful exciter 
of movement than any before tried. The movements continued aa 
long as the hot plate was kept applied ; but the same plate, at the 
common temperature, excited no movements after the first contact. 
Chough tho contact was distinctly felt by the patient, no sensation of 
heat was perceived by him, even when the plate was applied hot 
enough to cause blistering. — On the first return of Voluntary power^ 
the patient was enabled to restrain in some measure the excited 
movements ; but this required a distinct effort of his Will ; and his 
first attempts to walk were curiously afiected by the persistence of the 
susceptibility to reflex excitement. When he first attempted to 
stand, the knees immediately became forcibly bent under him ; this 
action of the legs being excited by contact of the soles with the 
ground. On the 95th day this effect did not take place, until the 
patient had made a few steps ; the legs then had a tendency to bend 
up, a movement which he counteracted by rubbing the surface of the 
abdomen ; this rubbing excited the extensors to action, and the legs 
became extended with a jerk. A few more steps were then made, the 
manoeuvre was repeated, and so on. This susceptibility to involuntary 
movements from impressions on the soles, gradually diminished ; and 
on the 141st day, the patient was able to walk about, supporting 
himself on the back of a chair which he pushed before him ; but his 
gait was unsteady. Sensation improved very slowly : it was on the 
63rd day that he first slightly perceived the heat of the metal plate. 
— Now in this case, the abolition of Common Sensation was not so 
complete as in the former instance ; but of the peculiar kind of im- 
pression which was found most efficacious in exciting reflex move- 
ments, no consciousness whatever was experienced. It is further 
interesting to remark, that the reflex actions were very feeble 
during the first seven days, in comparison with their subsequent 
energy ; being limited to slight movements of the feet, which could 
not always be excited by tickling the soles. It is evident, then, that 
the Spinal Cord must have been in a state of concussion, which 
prevented the manifestation of its peculiar functions so long as this 
effect lasted ; and it is easy, therefore, to perceive, that a still more 
severe shock might permanently destroy its power, so as to prevent 



Reflex Actions in Man^ "JZ 

the exhibition of any of the phenomena of reflex action. — [Medico- 
Cliirurgical Transactions, vol. xxii., 1839.) 

69. The dependence of the movements of Respiration and 
Diiglutition (swallowing) upon the independent endowments of the 
^nnglionic centres contained in the upper part of the Spinal cord, 
(§ 62) is equally well established. — It has occasionally happened 
t hat even Human infants have been born alive without any Brain ; 
and have lived and breathed for some hours — crying and even 
sucking, — though they had no Nerve-centres above the Medulla 
Oblongata. And new-born puppies, reduced to the same condition 
by the removal of the whole contents of the skull except the 
Medulla Oblongata, have continued to perform the same actions. 
The independence of the Ganglionic centres, not only of the ordinary 
Spinal nerves, but of those which supply the muscles concerned in 
the acts of Breathing and Sucking, has been thus fully demon- 
strated. And the purely reflex character of the movement of 
Sucking in the new-bom Mammal, is proved by the fact that it 
is immediately excited in a brainless puppy by introducing the 
finger moistened with milk between its lips. Now this act requires 
a combined contraction of a number of muscles, — those of grasping 
by the lips, those by which a vacuum is produced in the mouth, 
those of respiration, and those of swallowing, — all of which mani- 
fest the most perfect adaptation of means to ends ; but it is clear 
that this adaptation is not made by any intention on the part of 
the Ego, but is the result of the working of its Nervous mechanism. 
If an Animal from which everything above the Medulla Oblongata 
has been removed has any Consciousness at all, it can be of no 
higher kind than that sense of need, which we ourselves experience 
when we hold our breath for a short time, and which directly 
Dionipts the movements that tend to its relief, without the least 
Idea, on our own parts, of the purpose which those movements will 
answer. 

70. These facts, taken in connexion with the preceding experi- 



74 Nervous System and its Ftcnctions. 

ments both upon Vertebrated and Articulated animals, distinctly 
prove that Sensation is not a necessary link in the chain of reflex 
actions ; but that all which is required is the " nervous circle 
already described (§47). Thus these movements are all necessarily 
linked with the stimulus that excites them; that is, the same 
stimulus will always produce the same movement, when the con- 
dition of the body is the same. Hence it is evident that the 
Judgment and Will are not concerned in producing them, and that 
the adaptiveness of the movements is no proof of the existence 
of consciousness and discrimination in the being that executes 
them ; such adaptation being made for the being — by the peculiar 
structure of its Nervous apparatus, which causes a certain move- 
ment to be executed in respondence to a given impression, — not 
by it. An animal thus circumstanced may be not unaptly com- 
pared to an Automaton, in which particular movements, each 
adapted to produce a given effect, are produced by touching 
certain springs. 

71. It seems not improbable, however, that some of these 
reflex movements, — such as are performed by the legs of a Frog 
as if with the purpose of removing a source of irritation (§ QQ\ 
— were not originally automatic, but have become so by habit; 
these secondarily automatic actions (as Hartley well designated 
them) coming to be performed with the same absence of Will 
or Intention, as the originally or jyrimarily automatic. Such 
is pretty certainly the character we are to assign to the 
ordinary Locomotive actions of Man. For though we are accus- 
tomed to regard these as Voluntary, and although they are so 
in the sense that we can commence and stop them at will, yet 
they continue of themselves, when — having been once set going — 
our Will has been entirely withdrawn from them ; our whole 
attention being engrossed by some train of thought of our own, 
or by conversation with a companion. And it seems clear that 
in this case the succession of movements is purely reflex ; beinfe 



Seco7idaidly~ Automatic MoveniejUs in Man. 75 

Bustained by the successive contacts of our feet with the ground, 
each exciting the next action (§ 16). For numerous instances are on 
record, in which Soldiers have continued to march in a sound 
sleep ; riding on horseback (which requires a constant exercise of 
the balancing power) during sleep is a not unfrequent occurrence ; 
and the Writer has been assured by an intelligent witness, that he 
has seen a very accomplished Pianist complete the performance of 
a piece of music in the same state.* A case has been mentioned 
to him by Dr. William Budd, of a patient subject to sudden 
attacks of temporary suspension of consciousness without con- 
vulsion, who, whenever the paroxysm came-on, persisted in the 
kind of movement in which he was engaged at the moment ; and 
thus on one occasion fell into the water through continuing to 
walk onwards, and frequently (being a shoemaker by trade) 
wounded his fingers with the awl in his hand, by a repetition 
of the movement by which he was endeavouring to pierce tiie 
leather. 

72. Now in all these forms of secondarily -■d^w.ionx^tic activity, it 
seems reasonable to infer that the same kind of connection 
between the exciter and the motor nerves comes to be formed by a 
process of gradual development, as originallt/ exists in the Nervous 
systems of those animals whose movements are primarily auto- 
matic ; this portion of the Nervous mechanism of Man being so 
constituted, as to grow-to the mode in which it is habitually 
called into play. — Such an idea is supported by all that we know 
of the formation and persistence of habits of Nervo-muscultr 
action. For it is a matter of universal experience, that such habits 
are far more readily acquired during the periods of Infancy, 
Childhood, and Youth, than they are after the attainment of 

* In playing by memory on a musical instrument, the muscular sense (§80) 
often sug.gests the sequence of movements with more certainty than the auditory ; 
and since it is certain that impressions derived from the Muscles may prom^Dt and 
regulate successional Movements without affecting the Consciousness, there is no 
Buch improbal/ility in the above statement as might at first sight appear. 



76 Nervous System and its Functions. 

adult age ; and that, the earlier they are acquired, the more 
tenaciously are they retained. Now it is whilst the Organism is 
growing most rapidly, and the greatest amount of new tisoue is 
consequently being formed, that we should expect such new 
connections to be most readily established : and, it is then, too, 
that the nutritive processes most readily take-on that new mode 
of action (§ 276), which often becomes so completely a "second 
nature " as to keep-up a certain acquired mode of Nutrition 
through the whole subsequent life. — It is an additional and most 
important confirmation of this view, that (as was shown by Dr. 
Waller) when a Nerve-trunk has been cut-across, the re-establish- 
ment of its conductive power which takes-place after a certain 
interval, is not effected by the re-union of the divided fibres, but 
by the development of a new set of fibres beyond the point of section, 
in the place of the old ones (which undergo a gradual degenera- 
tion), the fibres on the central side remaining unaltered. And the 
same may be pretty certainly afi&rmed of that complete recovery 
of Nervous power in the hinder part of the body and limbs, which 
has been shown to take place by M. Brown-S^quard, after they 
had been entirely paralysed by complete division of the Spinal 
cord in the back. For if this recovery had been the result of 
simple re-union of the divided surfaces (as in an ordinary cut 
finger), the restoration of power, — of which no indication can be 
perceived for some weeks, and which altogether requires several 
months — would be much more speedy. The length of time 
required, which corresponds with that needed in Man after severe 
injuries to the Spine (§ 68), affords clear evidence that the process 
in these cases is really one of regeneration; and this fact, in 
connection with many others, shows that the Nervous substance is 
not only more capable of such complete regeneration than ?i\\y 
other tissue in the body, but is in a state of more constant 
and rapid change. It will be shown hereafter (§§ 277-282) how 
Ultimate is the relation between Mental and Bodily habits ; and 



Convulsive Movements, — Tetanus, 7 7 

how the formation and maintenance of both are dependent on this 
Nutritive reconstruction of the Nervous apparatus. 

73. There are many irregular or abnormal Reflex actions, known 
as convuldie, performed through the instrumentality of the Spinal 
cord, the study of which is peculiarly instructive. These move- 
ments are not produced by injuries of the Cerebral hemispheres ; 
but, in the production of them, the Sensory ganglia are often asso- 
ciated with the Spinal cord. They may either be (1) simply reflex^ 
being the natural result of some extraordinary irritation ; or (2) 
simply centric^ depending upon an excited condition of the gan- 
glionic centres of the Spinal cord, which occasions muscular move- 
ments without any stimulation ; or (3) they may depend upon 
combined action on both principles ; the Nerve-centres being in 
a highly irritable state, which causes very slight irritations (such 
as would otherwise be inoperative) to excite violent reflex or 
convulsive movements. The undue excitability of the Spinal 
cord may have its origin in an abnormal state of the Blood : thus 
we know that it may be produced by the introduction of certain 
poisons (as Strychnia) into the circulation ; and it is probable that 
morbid matters generated within the body may have the same efl'ect, 
and that the convulsive actions which occur in various diseased con- 
ditions of the system are generally due in part to that condition. 
In the case of the convulsions which are not unfrequent during 
the period of teething, being immediately excited by the irritation 
which results from the pressure of the tooth as it rises against the 
unyielding gum, the stimulus would be insufficient to produce the 
violent result, were it not for a peculiarly excitable state of the 
Spinal cord, brought about by various causes, amongst which im- 
pure air and unwholesome food are the most potent. In like 
manner, when such an excitable state exists, to which children are 
Deculiarly liable, convulsions may be occasioned by the presence 
)f intestinal worms, of irritating substances, or even simply of un- 
Ugested matters, in the alimentary canal ; and will cease as noon 



78 Nei'voti^s System and its Fttnctio^is. 

as they are cleared-out, in the same manner as the convulsions of 
teething may often be at once checked by the free lancing of the 
giiDiS. A change to a purer atmosphere is commonly found tha 
most efficacious means of reducing the morbid excitability of the 
Spinal cord, and thus of diminishing the liability to the recurrence 
of the Convulsion. 

74. The influence of the condition of the Spinal cord itself is 
manifested in the convulsive diseases known as Tetanus, Epilepsy, 
and Hysteria. — In Tetanus (commonly known as " lock-jaw ") 
there is a peculiarly excitable state of the Spinal cord and Medulla 
oblongata, not extending to the higher centres. This may be the 
result of causes altogether internal ; the condition exactly re- 
sembling that which may be artificially induced by the adminis- 
tration of Strychnia, or by its application to the Cord. Or it 
may be first occasioned by some local irritation, as that of a 
lacerated wound ; the irritation of the injured nerve being propa- 
gated to the Nerve-centres, and establishing the excitable state 
in them. — In like manner, Epilepsy, which consists in a combi- 
nation of Convulsive actions with temporary suspension of 
Consciousness, may result from the irritation of local causes, like 
the convulsions of teething ; and may cease, like them, when 
the sources of irritation are removed. It appears probable from 
recent researches, that the sudden but temporary suspension of the 
functions of the Brain, may be due to the spasmodic contraction of 
the vessels of the Sensorium, induced by the extension of the reflex 
motor impulse to the "vaso-motor" Nerves (§ 113). Certain 
forms of Epilepsy, on the other hand, are distinctly traceable to 
diseased states of the highest Nerve-centres. (See Appendix.) 

75. These and other forms of Convulsive disorder, when pro- 
ductive of a fatal result, usually act by suspending the Respiratory 
movements ; the muscles that effect these being fixed by the spasm, 
which thus prevents the air from passing either in or out ; so that 
suffocation takes place as completely as if the entrance to the air- 



Brain of Biras. — Iiistinctive Actions. 79 

passages were closed. — It is remarkable that nearly every one of 
them may be imitated by Hysteria ; a state of the Nervous system 
which is characterized by its peculiar excitability, but in which 
there is no such fixed tendency to irregular action as would indicate 
any positive disease ; one form of convulsion often taking the 
place of another, at short intervals, with the most wonderful 
variety. This state is generally connected with an undue excita- 
bility of the Emotions ; and, from their known influence on the 
" vaso-motor'' Nerves (§§ 113, dQ5), it seems likely that many of its 
manifestations are produced through the instrumentality of that 
system. 

76. Proceeding now to the Class of Birds, we find a considerable 
advance in the character of the Brain as compared with that of 
Reptiles. The Cerebral hemispheres are greatly increased in size ; 
Bo as to cover-in not merely the Olfactory ganglia, but in great 
part also the Optic gauglia. The former are of comparatively 
small size, the organ of Smell in Birds not being much developed : 
the latter are very large, in conformity with the acuteness of Sight 
which is their special characteristic. The Cerebellum is of large size, 
in conformity with the active and varied muscular movements per- 
lormed by animals of this class; but it consists chiefly of the central 
lobe, with little appearance of lateral hemispheres. The Spinal cord 
is still of considerable size in comparison with the Brain ; and it is 
much enlarged at the points whence the legs and wings originate. 
In the species which have the most energetic flight, such as the 
Swallow, the enlargement is the greatest where the nerves of the 
wings come off ; but in those which, like the Ostrich, move princi- 
pally by ruuniug on the ground, the posterior enlargement, from 
which the legs are supplied with nerves, is much the more 
considerable. 

77. It is not a little curious that Birds, — which present so 

Diany points of analogy to Insects in structure as well as in mod<» 
10 



8o Nervous System and its Functions 

of life, as to have been called the "Insects of the Vertebr.ited 
series," — should strongly resemble Insects also in the high develop- 
ment of their instincts ; i.e., the marked tendencies they show to 
particular kinds of movement, at the stimulus and under the 
guidance of particular sensations, without any experience to direct 
them. Thus, even the Chick within the egg sets itself free hy 
tapping with its bill (furnished at that time with a sharp horny 
ecale, which soon afterwards falls off) against the shell that encloses 
it; and, having once penetrated this, carries its chipping in a regular 
circle round the large end of the shell, which then drops off. In no 
long time after its escape, it raises itself upon its legs, and soon 
begins to run about, and to peck at insects, grains, &c., with a very 
sure aim. Mr. Spalding, who has recently made a series of very 
interesting observations on this point, found that if he 
" hooded " Chicks, or put them into a bag immediately on coming 
forth from the egg, and kept them so for two or three days until 
they could run about, the first effect of uncovering their eyes was 
to produce a sort of stunned condition ; but recovering from this in 
a minute or two, they would immediately follow the movements of 
crawling insects, and peck at them with unerring aim. So, he tells 
us, chickens hatched and kept in the bag for a day or two, when 
taken out and kept nine or ten feet from a box in which a 
hen with chicks was concealed, after standing for a minute or two, 
uniformly set off straight for the box in answer to the call of the hen, 
though they had never seen her, and had never before heard her 
voice. This they did, struggling through grass, and over rough 
ground, when not yet able to stand steadily upon their legs. Even 
hooded chicks tried to make their way towards the hen, obviously 
guided by sound alone. So, on the other hand, a turkey only ten 
uiays old, which had never in its life seen a hawk, was so alarmed 
by the note of a hawk secreted in a cupboard, that it fled in the 
direction opposite to the cupboard with every sign of terror.* 
* Macmillan's Magazine^ Feb., 1873. 



Sensori-motor or Instinctive Actions i7i Man. 8i 

78. Now these actions clearly belong to the class which the Phy- 
siologist terms Sensori-motor or Cojisensual ; being the reflex 
actions of that higher division of the Nerve-centres, which con- 
sists of the Sensory ganglia as distinguished from the Cerebrum. 
The sense of Sight obviously affords the chief direction of the 
movements of Birds : and that the Sensory ganglia, in these 
higher Vertebrata, continue to furnish the instrumentality through 
which Sensations are excited by impressions made on the organs 
of Sense, and respondent motions are called forth, appears from 
the effect of experimental removal of the Cerebral hemispheres 
of Birds, the Sensory ganglia being left intact. For a Bird 
thus mutilated maintains its equilibrium, and recovers it when 
it has been disturbed ; if pushed, it walks ; if thrown into 
the air, it flies. A Pigeon deprived of its Cerebrum has been 
observed to seek out the light parts of a partially-illuminated 
room in which it was confined, and to avoid objects that lay in its 
way ; and at night, when sleeping with closed eyes and its head 
under its wing, it raised its head and opened its eyes upon the 
slightest noise. — So, again, the removal or destruction of either pair 
of these Sensory centres appears to involve the loss of the particu- 
lar Sense to which it ministers ; and frequently, also, to occasion 
Buch a disturbance in the ordinary movements of the animal, as 
shows the importance of these centres in regulating them. Suc!i 
experiments have been chiefly made upon the 02:>tic ganglia ; the 
partial loss of which on one side produces temporary blindness in 
the eye of the opposite side, and partial loss of muscular power vn 
the opposite side of the body ; whilst the removal of a lar^^ur 
portion, or the complete extirpation of it, occasions permanent 
blindness and immobility of the pupil, and temporary muscular 
weakness, on the opposite side. This temporary disorder of tho 
Muscular system sometimes manifests itself in a tendency to move 
on the axis, as if the animal were giddy ; and sometimes in 
irregular convulsive movements. — Here, then, we have proof of th« 



8 2 Nervous System and its Functions, 

necessity of the integrity of this ganglionic centre, for the 
possession of the sense of Vision ; and we have farther proof that 
the ganglion is connected with the Muscular apparatus by motor 
fibres issuing from it. The reason why the Eye of the oppodU 
side is affected, is to be found in the crossing of the optic 
nerves in their course towards the optic ganglia; whilst the 
influence of the operation on the Muscles of the opposite side 
of the body, results from the like crossing of the motor fibres 
in their downward course through the Medulla oblongata. — 
Similar disturbances of movement have been produced by injuries 
to the organs of Sense themselves, or to the nerves connecting 
them with the Sensorial centres. Thus the division of one of the 
"semicircular canals'* of the Ear in pigeons and rabbits has 
been found to occasion constant efforts to move in the plane of 
that canal. (See Appendix.) 

79. Notwithstanding that, in Man, the high development of 
Intelligence^ and the exercise of the Will^ supersede in great 
degree the operations of Listinct, we still find that there are in 
ourselves certain movements which can be distinguished as neither 
Volitional nor Excito-motor ; being as truly Automatic as the 
latter, but requiring that the impressions which originate them 
sliould be felt as Sensations. — As examples of this group, we may 
advert to the start upon a loud and unexpected sound ; the sudden 
closure of the eyes to a dazzling light, or on the approach of 
bodies that might injure them, which has been observed to take 
place even in cases of paralysis, in which the eyelids could not be 
voluntarily closed ; the ' act of sneezing excited by an irritation 
within the nostril, and sometimes also by a dazzling light; the semi- 
convulsive movements and the laughter called forth by tickling ; 
and the vomiting occasioned by the sight or the smell of a loath- 
some object. So, again, the act of yawning, ordinarily called forth 
by certain uneasy sensations within ourselves, is also excited by the 
sight or hearing of the act as performed by another. — Varioua 



Injiuence of Guiding Sensations m Man. Z"}^ 

phenomena of Disease exhibit the powerful influence of Sensations 
in producing automatic motions. In Hydrophobia, for example 
the stimuli most effectual in exciting the convulsive movements, 
ai-e those which act through the nerves of special Sense ; thuo 
tiie sight or the sound of water will bring on the paroxysm, and 
any attempt to taste it increases the severity of the convulsions 3 
and it is further not a little significant, that the suggestion of the 
idea of water will produce the same result (§ 105). — In many 
Hysteric subjects, again, the sight of a paroxysm in another 
individual is the most certain means of its induction in them- 
selves. — The most remarkable examples, however, of automatic 
movements depending upon Sensations, are those which we come 
to perform habitually, and as we commonly say mechanically, 
when the attention and the voluntary effort are directed in quite 
a different channel (§§ 191-194). The man who is walking through 
the streets in a complete reverie, unravelling some knotty subject, 
or working-out a mathematical problem, not only performs the 
movements of progression (which are themselves excito- motor, § 71) 
with great regularity, but also directs these in a manner which 
plainly indicates the guidance of Sight. For he will avoid 
obstacles in the line of his path, and he will follow the course 
which he has been accustomed to take, although he may have 
intended to pass along some very different route ; and it is not 
until his attention is recalled to his situation, that his train of 
tliought suffers the least intermission, so that his Will is brought 
to bear upon his motions (§ 117). 

80. We may recognize the agency of the Sensory ganglia, how- 
ever, in Man, not merely in their direct and independent operation 
upon his muscular system, but also in the manner in which they 
participate in all his Voluntary actions. The existence of a sensation 
of some kind, in connection with muscular exertion, seems essen- 
tial to the continuance of the latter. Our ordinary movements are 
guided by what is termed the muscular sense ; that is, by a feeling 



84. Nervous Systein and its Functions. 

of the condition of the muscles, that comes to us through their own 
afferent nerves. How necessary this is to the exercise of Muscular 
power, may be best judged-of from cases in which it has been 
deficient. Thus a woman who had suffered complete loss of sensation 
in one arm, but who retained its motor power, found that she could 
not support her infant upon it without constantly looking at th* 
child ; and that if she were to remove her eyes for a moment, the 
child would fall, in spite of her knowledge that her infant was resting 
upon her arm, and of her desire to sustain it. Here, the Muscular 
sense being entirely deficient, the sense of Vision supplied what 
was required, so long as it was exercised upon the object ; but as 
Boon as this guiding influence was withdrawn, the strongest Will 
could not sustain the muscular contraction. — Again, in the produc- 
tion of Vocal sounds, the nice adjustment of the muscles of the 
larynx, which is requisite to produce determinate tones, can only 
be effected in obedience to a Mental conception of the tone to be 
uttered ; and this conception cannot be formed, unless the sense of 
Hearing has previously brought similar tones to the mind. Hence 
it is that persons who are born c?ea/are also diimh. They may 
have no malformation of the organs of Speech ; but they are un- 
able to utter distinct vocal sounds or musical tones, because 
they have not the guiding conception or recalled sensation of the 
nature of these. By long training, and by efforts directed by the 
Muscular sense of the larynx itself, some persons thus circum- 
stanced have acquired the power of speech ; but the want of 
Bufhciently definite control over the vocal muscles, is always very 
evident in their use of the organ. — So, again, all the combinations 
of diverse Muscular actions which take place in the conjoint move- 
ments of the eyes, can be shown to be executed by this automatic 
Mechanism under the guidance of the Visual sense ; the mandate 
to direct the eyes to a given point, being all that is issued by the 
Will (§ 21). 

81. There seems no adequate reason for the belief that th^ 



Intelligence of Birds. 85 

addition of the Cerebrum in the Vertebrated series alters the 
endowments of the Sensory ganglia on which it is superposed ; 
on the contrary, we everywhere see that the addition of new 
gangUonic centres, as instruments of new functions, leaves those 
which were previously existing in the discharge of their original 
duties. Hence we should be led to regard them as the instruments 
of Consciousness, even in Man, — each pair of ganglionic centres 
ministering to that peculiar kind of sensation for which its nerves 
and the organs they supply are set apart ; thus we should consider 
the Optic ganglia to be the seat of Visual sensations, the Auditory 
to be the seat of the sense of Hearing, and so on. And we should 
also consider them as the instruments whereby Sensations, of 
whatever kind, either originate or direct instinctive movements. 
The mechanism of all such movements, in fact, may be regarded as 
consisting of that part of the Nervous system which answers to 
the entire gangliated Cord of Articulated Animals, whose active 
life may be characterised as almost purely instinctive. And we 
shall presently see that this automatic Apparatus is as readily 
distinguishable from the Cerebrum (which is the instrument of 
Intelligence) even in Man^ as it is in the lower Vertebrata ; pro- 
vided that we study the structure of his Brain under the guidance 
of Comparative Anatomy. 

82. It would be impossible to find a better illustration of the 
contrast between Instinct and Intelligence as springs of action, 
than is afforded by the comparison of the habits of Birds in a state 
of Nature, with those which they acquire when brought into 
relation with Man. There can be no reasonable doubt that thej 
Architectural constructions, like those of Insects, proceed from an 
internal impulse, which prompts each individual of a species to 
build after one particular pattern, to choose a situation suitable to 
itu requirements, and to go in search of materials of a certain kind, 
though o-thers might be much more easily obtained. But, on the 
©thcr hand, in the w^orking-out of this design, it is clear that Birds 



86 Nervous System and its Functions. 

often profit by experience, and learn to use special means when 
special ends have to be provided for. — The following case, narrated 
by Mr. Jesse, supplies a very good example of this intelligential 
modification of the instinctive tendency : — 

a. A pair of Jackdaws endeavoured to construct their nest in 
oiie of the small windows that lighted the spiral staircase of an old 
church tower. As is usual, however, in such windows, the sill 
sloped inwards, with a considerable inclination ; and, consequently, 
there being no level base for the nest, as soon as a few sticks had 
been laid, and it was beginning to acquire weight, it slid down. This 
seems to have happened two or three times ; nevertheless the birds 
clung with great pertinacity to the site they had selected, and at last 
devised a most ingenious method of overcoming the difficulty. Col- 
lecting a great number of sticks, they built up a sort of. cone upon 
the staircase, the summit of which rose to the level of the window- 
sill, and afforded the requisite support to the nest ; this cone was not 
less than six feet high, and so large at its base as quite to obstruct 
the passage up the staircase ; yet, notwithstanding the large amount 
of material which it contained, it was known to have been constructed 
within four or five days. — Now as this was a device quite foreign to 
the natural habit of the bird, and only hit-upon after the repeated 
failure of its ordinary method of nest-building, the curious adaptation 
of means to ends which it displayed can scarcely be regarded in any 
other light, than as proceeding from a design in the minds of the 
individuals who executed it. 

The following circumstance, again, which was related to the 
Writer by a friend who witnessed it, shows how readily some Birds 
will spontaneously learn to profit by experience in matters which 
arise out of their relation to Man : — 

h. A Wren having built her nest in a rather dangerous situation in 
the slate -quarries at Penrhyn, was liable to great disturbance from the 
octiasional explosions. She soon learned, however, to take warning 
by the sound of the bell, which was rung to give notice to the work- 
men when a blast was about to be made; and would then quit her nest 
wid fly to a little distance, remaining there until the shock of the ex* 



hitelligence and E due ability of Birds, 87 

plosion had passed off. This was noticed by the workmen ; and the 
sagacity of the Wren was made a subject of exhibition to the visitors 
at the quarries, the bell being frequently rung for the mere purpose 
of causing her to quit her nest. After a tim^, however, it was 
observed that the bird no longer flew away upon the ringing of the 
bell, but that she remained until she saw whether or no the workmen 
began to move ; if they drew off, she would go too ; but if they re- 
mained in their places, she would not stir. — Now this conduct, saga- 
cious as it may appear, is evidently explicable on a very simple 
hypothesis of the Mental operations of the bird. Observant, from its 
elevated post, of all that took place in its neighbourhood, the wren in 
the first instance learnt by experience to associate the ringing of the 
bell with the coming explosion, so as to anticipate the latter on the 
occurrence of the former. Being frequently disturbed, however, by 
the demonstration of her sagacity, and driven without occasion from 
her nest, the bird would perceive that this first association no longer 
held good ; and nothing but a further period of observation was re- 
quired for the bird to derive a more positive warning from the 
departure of the workmen, from which she learned by experience 
that a certain indication of the approaching explosion might be 
derived. None of those higher processes which enter into our more 
complex trains of Reasoning, were here required; the mere formation 
of an association, which gives the data for all these, which is the 
foundation of all knowledge derived from experience, and which 
appears to be the faculty first called into action in the mind of the 
Human infant, being quite sufficient to account for it (§ 217). 

Another instance in which a Bird, without any direct teaching, 
learned to perform a particular action altogether foreign to its 
nature, was related to the Writer by a Swiss friend who had often 
witnessed the occurrence : — 

c. In the town in which he was brought up, was a domesticated 
Stork, which was accustomed to receive its food every evening about 
six o'clock, along with the ordinary poultry ; and the latter, being 
usually allowed to roam at large in the streets, were collected to- 
gether, at the proper time, by a man who went through the town in 
Bearch of them. The Stork, after having thus learned not to expect 



88 Nervous System and its Fimctions. 

its food until the poultry had been all collected, spontaneously accom- 
panied the collector, and assisted him in ^bringing the fowls together : 
and after doing this for a considerable time, becoming gradually more 
and more independent and self- relying, it became quite competent to 
perform this duty for itself, and was at last intrusted with it, so that 
it might be seen on any evening, gravely perambulating the towE, 
collecting its flock of poultry, and driving it home, just as a 
Shepherd's Dog collects the sheep. 

So, again, Rooks and other birds which live in the neighbour 
hood of Man, and are liable to be shot-at, often show in their 
actions that they distinguish whether a man who approaches them 
carries a gun, or not ; and are said to be able to distiaguish a gun 
from a walking-stick put to the shoulder after the manner of a gun. 
And it is further noticeable that they distinguish Sunday from other 
days; flying lower than usual, and sometimes visiting gardens 
where they would not venture on the days on which they would be 
liable to be molested. Whether they distinguish the day by some 
of its outward signs, or are guided by that remarkable power of 
measuring Time which many animals certainly possess, cannot be 
stated with certainty. — The following circumstance, of which the 
Writer is personally cognizant, indicates the acquirement of the 
same kind of knowledge : — 

d. In a Ladies' school formerly kept near Bristol, it was customary 
for the young people to go into the play-ground for a few minutes every 
week-day, soon after twelve o'clock, and there to eat their luncheon. 
The crumbs of bread which they dropped on the ground proved very 
attractive to the sparrows in the neighbourhood, which would congre- 
gate on the walls of the garden a little hefore twelve every day, 
waiting for the appearance of their young friends, and patiently 
anticipating the time when the return of the ladies into the school- 
room would allow them to profit by their leavings. But on Sundays, 
the habits of the family were altogether different ; the visit to the 
play- ground gave place to attendance on public worship, and the mid- 
day luncheon to an early dinner ; on that day, therefore, the sparrows 
went without their accustomed meal. But it was obvious that they 



Intelligence and EdMcability of Birds. 89 

did not expect it ; for it might be observed by any one who happened 
to remain at home on Sunday morning, that the usual mid-day 
gathering did not present itself, — the sparrows having evidently 
learned, not merely to judge very accurately of the approach of noon 
on the week-days on which they might expect their feed, but also to 
distinguish the day on which they must dispense with it. 

83. The Birds of the Parrot tribe are pre-eminent for their edu- 
cat/Iiity and apparent intelligence : but this educability chiefly 
Jepends upon their great imitative power ; and their intelligence is 
really of a very low order, consisting in an exercise of the simple 
faculty of Association, the manifestations of which are chiefly re- 
markable as taking the form of vocal utterances. The associations 
which the Parrot forms between certain vocal sounds and certain 
visual objects, lead it often to give forth the former under circum- 
stances of singular appropriateness ; but it would be quite a mis- 
take to attribute such utterances to any higher intelligence than 
that of a young child just learning to talk, which repeats the 
phrases it has learned by imitation, without any distinct idea of 
their meaning, but sometimes brings them in remarkably h propos. 
A very good illustration of both faculties is aftbrded by a couple of 
anecdotes which the Writer remembers to have heard in his youth 
from his aged friend Mr. Palmer of Bristol : — 

In Mr. Palmer's younger days, when Bristol was largely engaged 
in the African slave-trade, the large grey Parrots (which are far 
more intelligent than the green) were very numerous in that city, and 
often created great amusement. There was one which hung outside 
a shop in the neighbourhood of the quay, and had a remarkable tact 
in distmguishing sailors ; and if a sailor happened to stop before hig 
cage when he was in the middle of singing Handel's 104th psalm 
(winch he performed most correctly), he would break off from '* My 

Boul praise the Lord, " into " D n your ej^es, you fool, what are 

you looking at P " The sight of a sailor obviously called forth the 
phraseology which the bird had been accustomed to associate with 
that cUss. — Another Parrot caused no small degree of personal 



90 Nervous System and its Functions. 

annoyance to Mr. Palmer himself. In his younger days, when an 
attorney's clerk, he was somewhat given to dandyism, and particularly 
rejoiced in a very long queue. A parrot, which was accustomed to 
hang outside the window of a house that he passed in his way 
between his residence and his office, was taught by some waggish 
boys to salute him with — " There goes the man with the long pig- 
tail ; ■' and this the parrot learned to sing- out, without any prompt- 
ing, whenever Mr. Palmer made his appearance; the continual 
repetition of which remark was so disagreeable to him, that' he 
changed his route, and went through another street, to avoid it. — 
Now we have no reason to suppose that the bird knew the meaning of 
what it uttered, or was itself cognizant of the remarkable length of 
Mr. Palmer's pigtail ; it simply learned to distinguish the individual, 
and to utter the phrase which it had been taught to associate with 
the sight of him. — On the same simple principles we may explain 
most, if not all, of what appears most marvellous in the accounts of 
wonderful Parrots, given to the world from time to time. (See, for 
example, Jesse^s Oleaiiings in Natural History, 5th Edit., p. 220.) 

84. It is a fact of no little interest, that Birds which inhabit 
localities not frequented by Man, know no fear of him, but allow 
him to approach them closely. Thus, when Mr. Darwin visited 
the Galapagos islands, he found that mocking-birds and finches, 
doves, and hawks, would allow him to come near enough to kill 
them with a stick, and sometimes even to catch them with the hand. 
The early visitors to the Falkland islands, a century previously, 
made the same report of the tameness of the birds they found 
there ; and the descendants of these birds still exhibit very little 
of that apprehension which is shown by the birds of the same 
species in Tierra del Fuego, where they have been persecuted by 
man for ages past. The experience of many generations seems 
to be needed for the acquirement of this fear of man ; which, 
ji« Mr. Darwin remarked, appears to have the character of an 
hereditary instinct, rather than to proceed from knowledge tradi- 
tionally communicated from one generation to another, — the 
experience being gradually embodied, as it were, in the constitu- 



Brain of Mammalia. 



91 



tions of the Birds, and showing itself, like other congenital 
tendencies, in the actions they perform without any process of 
education. Here, then, we have a simple case of that hereditary 
transmission of acquired Psychical peculiarities, which seems to 
have a large share in the progressive development of the Human 
Mmd (§§ 93, 97). 

85. We arrive, lastly, at the Class of Mammalia ; in which the 
development of the Cerebrum comes to be so predominant, as to 



Fig. 10. 




Brains op Rodents :— I, Rabhit ; 11. Beaver, with the Hemispheres 
drawn apart -.—a, Olfactory Ganglia ; B, Cerebral Hemispheres ; c, 
Optic Ganglia ; b, Cerebellum ; e, Spinal Cord ; k, Thalami Optici ; 
w, Corpora Striata, 

mask what has been shown to constitute the fundamental part of 
the organization of the Brain, — namely the Sensorial tract at its 
base. Still, among those lower Mammals in which the Brain does 
not present any great advance upon that of Birds, the Sensorial 
tract can be at once recognized as something altogether distinct 
from the Cerebrum, if we simply draw apart the Hemispheres, 



t^2 Nervous System and its Ftmctions, 

which, in their natural position, cover it in. Thus, in the Order 
Rode ,tia, the Cerebrum (b, Fig. 10) is smooth externally, as it is 
in Birds and Reptiles ; it is pointed in front, and is not prolonged 
bufi&ciently far forwards to cover the olfactive ganglia (a, a) ; but 
it is wider behind, and is prolonged so far backwards as completely 
to cover-in the optic ganglia, and even partly to overlap the 
Cerebellum (d). But, on drawing its hemispheres apart, we find 
the optic ganglia (c) lying immediately in front of the Cerebellum ; 
whilst in front of these, again, are two pairs of ganglionic masses, 
known as the Thalami optici (k) and the Corpora striata (wi), 
which may be probably regarded as the terminations of the sensory 
and nnotor columns of the Spinal cord, and as ministering to the 
sense of Touch, and to the movements immediately related to it. 
The Thalami have also a connection with the optic nerves ; and it 
does not seem improbable that this connection is instrumental in 
the establishment of that co-ordination between the senses of 
Sight and of Touch, which is so essential to the formation of trust- 
worthy Perceptions of external objects (§ 167). 

86. The large proportion which the Sensory ganglia still bear to 
the Cerebral hemispheres, and the low development of the latter 
— as marked by the smoothness of their surface, not less than by 
their relative size — are in accordance with the predominance of 
Instinct over Intelligence, which still marks the psychical character 
of these lower Mammalia, and of which we have a conspicuous 
example in the Beaver. There could scarcely be a better example 
of the irrationality of Instinct, than is afforded by the following 
account, given by Mr. Broderip, of a Beaver which he kept in his 
house : — 

"The building instinct showed itself immediately it was let out of its 
cage, and materials were placed in its way ; and this before it had 
been a week in its new quarters. Its strength, even before it was 
half- grown, was great. It would drag along a large sweeping-brush, 
or a warming-pan, grasping the handle with its teeth so that the load 



Building Instinct of Beaver. 93 

came over its shoulder, and advancing in an oblique direction till it 
arrived at the point where it wished to place it. The long and large 
materials were always taken first, and two of the longest were gene- 
rally laid crosswise, with one of the ends of each touching the wall, 
and the other end projecting out into the room. The area formed 
by the cross-brushes and the wall he would fill up with hand-brushes, 
rush-baskets, boots, books, sticks, cloths, dried turf, or anything 
portable. As the work grew high, he supported himself on his tail, 
which propped him up admirably ; and he would often, after laying 
on one of his building materials, sit up over against it, appearing to 
consider his work, or, as the country people say, 'judge it.' This 
pause was sometimes followed by changing the position of the mate- 
rial 'judged,' and sometimes it was left in its place. After he had 
piled up his materials in one part of the room (for he generally chose 
the same place), he proceeded to wall up the space between the feet 
of a chest of drawers which stood at a little distance from it, high 
enough on its legs to make the bottom a roof for him, using for this 
purpose dried turf and sticks, which he laid very even, and filling up 
the interstices with bits of coal, hay, cloth, or anything he could pick 
up. This last place he seemed to appropriate for his dwelling ; the 
former work seemed to be intended for a dam." 

Nothing could be more absurd, from the reasoning point of 
view, than the attempt of the animal to construct a dam where 
there was no water, or to build up a house where he was already 
comfortably lodged ; but the innate architectural impulse was 
obviously uncontrolled by any perception of the entire unsuit- 
ableness of the work to the conditions under which it was being 
carried out, under the guidance of a "judgment" which had 
reference to conditions that did not exist. 

87. As we rise through the Mammalian series towards Man, we 
find not only a marked increase in the absolute bulk of the Cerehnl 
hemispheres^ and a yet greater relative excess in their size as 
compared with the aggregate of that of the Sensory ganglia, but 
an augmentation of their functional powers beyond all proportion 
to their size, which is derived from the peculiar manner in which 



94 Nervous System and its Functions. 

their ganglionic matter is disposed. In all ordinary ganglia, the 
Nerve-cells on whose presence their special attributes depend 
(§ 36), form a sort of internal nucleus ; but Id the Cerebrum they 
are spread-out on the surface, forming an external or cortical layer. 
This layer is covered by a membrane termed the pia mater, which 
is entirely composed of Blood-vessels held together by connec- 
tive tissue ; and thus a copious supply of blood is brought to this 
important part. But the extent of the cortical layer, and of its 
contact with the pia mater, is enormously increased by its being 
thrown into folds, so as to produce what is known as the con- 
V, luted surface of the Hemispheres (Figs. 11-13) ; for the pia mater 
everywhere dips-down into the furrows between the convolutions, 
so as to supply the deepest parts of this plicated ganglionic layer, 
equally with the most superficial. And thus it comes to pass that 
the supply of Blood to the Cortical layer is far larger in proportion 
to the amount of its substance, than it is to any other part of the 
body. Of the enormous amount distributed to the Brain as a 
whole (§ 40), by far the greater part goes to the cortical layer of 
''grey" or "ganglionic'' substance; the "white" or "fibrous" 
structure of the interior, often termed the Medullary substance, 
which constitutes by far the larger portion of the bulk of the Brain 
(Figs. 12, 13), receiving comparatively little. It is clear, therefore, 
that the functional activity of the Cerebrum is immensely aug- 
mented by the folding of its Cortical layer ; and that its capacity 
for the production of Nerve-force is marked by the number and 
depth of its plications, no less than by its absolute size. In the 
higher orders of Mammalia, the convolutions are well marked ; 
but we do not find them either numerous or complex in their 
Arrangement until we approach Man ; and even in the highest 
Apes they are considerably shallower and less numerous than in 
the lowest examples of the Human brain. (See Appendix.) 

88. The Brain of Man (Fig. 11) differs from that of the animaU 
that most nearly approach him, rather in its large size — as com- 



Brain of Man. 



95 



pared alike with the Body generally, and with the Spinal cord, — 
than in any other character. For in the higher Apes, as in Man, 
we find that backward development of the Cerebrum into a 
'posterior lobe, which makes it cover-in the Cerebellum ; whilst 
in them, as in him, the anterior lobes have a much greater 
breadth, as well as greater forward extension, than in the lower 
Mammalia. There is, however, a marked diversity in respect 



Fig. 11. 




7 11 9 10 6 F 

Braix and cephalic nerves op Man, as shown in vertical section 
THROUGH THE MEDIAN PLANE : —A, B, c, anterior, middle, and posterior 
lobes of the Cerebrum, showing its convoluted surface; d, Optic ganglia; 
E, Cerebellum ; f, Spinal Cord ; c, corpus callosum ; — 1, Olfactory bulb ; 
2, Eye, with Optic nerve ; 5, 5', 5 ", Fifth pair of Nerves ; 6, Sixth pair ; 7, 
Seventh pair; 9, Glosso-pharyngeal nerve; 10, Par Vagum ; 11, Hypo- 
glossal ; 12, Spinal Accessory; 13, 14, ordinary double-rooted Spinal Nerves. 

of size between the Brains of different Ra.ces of men ; those 
of the most civilized stocks, whose powers have been culti- 
11 



96 



Nervous System and its Fitnctions. 



vated and improved by Education through a long series of 
generations, being for the most part considerably larger than 
those of Savage tribes, or of the least advanced among our own 
peasantry. So far as can be judged from the few cases which 
have furnished adequate materials for the determination, the 
brains of those earliest Races of men, which (like the old "flint- 
folk") had made but a very slight advance in the arts of life, 



Fig. 12. 




Diagram of the mutual relations of the principal Encephalic 
Centres, as shown in vertical section : — a, Cerebrum ; b, Cere- 
bellum ; 0, Sensori-motor tract, including the Olfactive ganglion oZ/, 
the Optic oipt, and the Auditory aud, with the Thalami optici iha\ 
and the Corpora striata cs ; d, Medulla oblongata ; e, Spinal cord ; — 
a, olfactive nerve ; 6, optic ; c, auditory ; d, pneuraogastric : e, hypo- 
glossal ; /, spinal : — radiating fibres of the Medullary substance of the 
Cerebrum are shown, connecting its cortical layer with the Thalami 
optici and Corpora striata, 

were extremely small. Thus the inference, based on Comparative 
Anatomy, as to the relation between the development of the 



Brain of Man. 



97 



Cerebrum and the predominance of Intelligence over Instinct, 
seems to hold good when applied to the diversities we encounter 
in the Human type ; and of this we have a further confirmation 
in the fact, that where the Cerebrum is so imperfectly developed 
as to be greatly under the average size, there is a marked deficiency 
in Intelligence, amounting to absolute Idiocy. The unfortunate 




DiAaRAM OF THE MUTUAL RELATIONS OP THE CbREBRUM AND THE 

Sensor] -MOTOR tract, as shown in horizontal section : —a, a, Cortical 
layer of Cerebral Hemisplieres, connected "P'\tli Sensori-motor tract 
by ascending fibres (shown on the left side) radiating from thai, the 
Thalami optici, and by descending fibres (shown on the right side) con- 
verging to cs, the Corpora striata ; olf, Olfactive ganglia ; opt, Optic 
ganglia ; aud, Auditory ganglia ; a, a, Olfactive nerves ; h, b, Optic 
nerves ; c, c, Auditory nerves ; e, Spinal Cord. 

beings thus characterized, are guided almost solely by their 

Instinctive tendencies, which frequently manifest themselves with 

a degree of strength that would not have been supposed to exist ; 



98 Nervous System and its Fzmcttons, 

and Instincts occasionally present themselves, of which the Human 
being is ordinarily regarded as destitute, and which may be 
presumed to be survivals of those which characterized some lower 
grade of his development. On the other hand, those who have 
obtained most influence over the understandings of others, ha^e 
generally been large-hrained persons, of strong Intellectual atii 
Volitional powers, whose Emotional tendencies have been sub- 
Drdinated to their Reason and Will, and who have devoted their 
whole energy to the particular objects of their pursuit. — It is veiy 
different, however, with those who are chiefly actuated by what 
is ordinarily tevvaedi genius ; and whose influence is rather upon the 
feelings and intuitions, than apon the understandings, of others. 
Such persons are often very deficient in the power of even com- 
prehending the ordinary affairs of life ; and still more commonly, 
they show a want of judgment in the management of them, being 
too much under the immediate influence of their Passions and 
Emotions, which they do not sufficiently endeavour to control by 
their Intelligent Will. The life of a " genius," whether his bent 
be towards poetry, music, painting, or pursuits of a more material 
character, is too often one which cannot be held-up for imitation. 
In such persons, when the general power of the mind is low, the 
Cerebrum is not usually found of any great size. — The mere com- 
parative size of tlie Cerebrum, however, affords no accurate 
measure of the amount of Mental power ; for we not unfrequently 
meet wdth men possessing large and well-formed heads, whose 
Psychical capability is not greater than that of others, the 
dimensions of whose crania have the same general proportion, 
but are of much less absolute size. Large brains, w^ith deficient 
activity, are commonly found in persons of w^hat is termed the 
pldegmatic temperament, in whom the general processes of life 
seem in a torpid and indolent state ; whilst small brains and 
great activity, betoken what are known as the sanguine and 
nervous temperaments. 



Brain of Man: — Cerebral Hemispheres. 99 

^"^^ It is not only, however, by their size, and by the special de- 
velopment of their Cortical layer, that the Cerebral hemispheres 
of Man are distinguished from those of the lower Mammalia : for 
I hoy are furthei remarkable for the elaborateness of their internal 
structure, which shows itself especially in the complexity of the 
ftirangement of the nerve-fibres of which the Medullary substance 
is composed. These may be grouped under three principal divisions. 
The jirst^ which may be distinguished as the radiating fibres, 
connect the different parts of the Cortical layer with the Sensori- 
motor tract on which the Cerebrum is superposed (Figs. 12, 13); 
and it is probable that there are two sets of these, — one ascending 
from the Thalami optici (which seem to form the terminals of the 
sensory tract of the Axial cord) to the Cortical layer, and conveying 
to it the result- of the Physical changes produced in them by 
the Sense-impressions which they receive ; — the other descending 
from the Cortical layer to the Corpora striata (which seem to 
form the terminals of the motor tract of the Axial cord), and 
conveying to them the Physical results of the changes which take 
place in itself. These fibres, which bring the instrument of 
Intelligence and Will into relation with that portion of the 
Nervous apparatus which furnishes the Mechanism of sensation 
and of the automatic or instinctive motions, were called by 
a sagacious old Anatomist, Keil, the nerves of the internal 
senses; and under that name they will be frequently referred-to 
in this Treatise. — The second set of fibres brings the several parts 
of the Cortical layer of each Hemisphere into mutual communica- 
tion. The arrangement of these commissural fibres is peculiarly 
Complex in Man : one particular group of them is known as the 
Fojiiiv, or great longitudinal commissure. — The third set of fibres, 
termed inter-cerebral, connects the two Hemispheres together^ 
through the medium of a broad band which is known as the 
Corpiis callosum, or great transverse commissure (Fig. 11, c). This 
also is much more developed in Man, relatively to the size of hia 



lOO Ne7'voiLs Syste^n and its Functions. 

Cerebrum, than it is in any of the lower Mammalia. It is 
altogether wanting in Fishes, Reptiles, and Birds ; and there is 
litfle more than a rudiment of it in Marsupials and Rodents. 
Cases have occurred in which it has been nearly, or even entirely, 
deficient in Man ; and it is significant that the chief defect in 
the characters of such individuals has been observed to be a 
want of forethought, i. e., of power to apply the experience of 
the past to the anticipation of the future. 

90. Thus, then, we see that the Cerebrum is a special organ 
svperaclded to that automatic Mechanism which constitutes the 
fmidamental and essential part of the Nervous system, even in 
Man ; and which not only supplies the conditions requisite for the 
maintenance of his Organic functions (§ 32), but ministers 
to the operations of the Cerebrum itself. For it is through the 
fibres ascending from the Sensorium to the Cortical layer of the 
Cerebrum, that the latter derives all that stimulus to its 
activity, which is furnished by the Ego's consciousness of the 
changes taking place in the external world ;* while it is through 
the descending fibres that the results of Cerebral change are en- 
abled to produce, through the motor portion of the apparatus, those 
Muscular movements by which the Mind expresses itself in action. 
We have now to enquire more closely into the mode in which the 
Cerebrum is subservient to those higher Mental operations, the 
capacity for which constitutes the distinguishing characteristic of 
Man, but to which we may trace very distinct approximations 
among the lower Mammalia. 

01. We have seen that, so far as any Animal is dominated by 
instinct, it is a creature of necessity; performing its instrumental 
part in the economy of Nature from no design or will of its own, 
but as an automaton executing that limited series of actions foi 

* Here and elsewhere, the term "external world" is meant to include all 
that is external to the Mind itself, — tlias taking-in the changes which occui 
in the Ego's own Bodily organism. 



Progressive Evolution of Intelligence. loi 

which its Mechanism fits it : and further, that the highest develop- 
ment of the Instinctive tendencies, with the lowest proportional 
manifestation of Intelligence, is to be found in Lisects. On the 
other hand, that type of Psychical perfection which consists in 
the highest development of the reason, and in the supreme domi- 
cation of tne will, to which all the automatic actions — save those 
which are absolutely essential to the maintenance of the Organio 
functions — are brought under subjection, is presented in Man; 
who, in his most elevated phase, is not only a thinking and 
reflecting, but a self-determining and self- controlling agent, all 
whose actions are performed with a definite purpose which is 
distinctly within his own view, and are adapted to the attainment 
of that purpose by his own Intelligence. But as, in ascending 
the Vertebrated serieSj we observe that the Cerebrum is at first » 
a mere rudimentary organ, and approximates but very gradually 
to the high development it attains in Man, so do we observe 
that the Psychical manifestations of its successive types exhibit 
a greater and yet gTeater approximation in kind to those of 
which he is capable. And this approximation becomes more 
obvious, when we compare them, not with those of the Adult, 
but with those of the Infant and young Child. For whilst 
the actions of the new-born Infant are entirely automatic, being 
directly prompted by present sensations, it soon becomes obvious 
that simple ideas are being formed as to the objects which excite 
those sensations, and that the actions begin to be guided by the 
experience with which these ideas are associated ; and this is j ust 
what we recognize in studying the actions of such of the lower 
Vertebrata as we can bring under our observation. In the acts of 
the higher Mammals, as in those of the Child, we cannot fail to 
perj-aivethe manifestations of true reasoning processes, analogous to 
tliose which we ourselves perform; together with the CTpressicna 
of emotional states corresponding more or less closely to our own. 
Such are especially noticeable in the Dog, the HorsOj and ths 



I02 Nej^voits System and its Functions. 

Elephant ; which, having been trained into subservience to Man's 
requirements, and having come to possess a pecuhar sympathetic 
attachment to him of which other species seem incapable, acquire 
a peculiar insight into what is passing in liis mind, which helps to 
shape their course of action. In so far as that action is based 
upon the distinct conception of a 'purpose, and is carried-out by the 
means suggested by their experience as most suitable to its attain- 
ment, these animals participate in the rational nature of Man. 
But there seems no adequate ground for crediting them with that 
power of rejecting upon their own Mental states, which is required 
for the Intellectual processes of Abstraction and Generalization 
(§ 227); their most sagacious performances being readily accounted 
for by the automatic action oi Association (§ 218). 

92. Of all breeds of Dogs, there is none more distinguished for 
sagacity than the one which has probably been longest asso- 
ciated with Man, — namely the Shepherd's Dog. " The shepherd," 
says Mr. T. Bell {British Quadrupeds, p. 234) " who tends his 
hundreds or thousands of sheep on the moors and mountain-sides 
of Scotland and of Wales, or on the extensive and trackless downs 
of Wiltshire, commits his almost countless charge to the care of 
his Dogs, with the certainty that their safety and welfare will 
be surely provided-for by the activity, watchfulness, and courage of 
these intelligent and faithful guardians. Some of the recorded 
instances of the almost human sagacity evinced by this valuable 
race would exceed belief, were they not authenticated by the most 
credible witnesses. In Scotland, particularly, where the flocks are 
so liable to be lost in snow-wreaths, these qualities are beyond aU 
price ; and are often exhibited in a manner equally affecting and 
wonderful." — The following is a very remarkable case of this kind, 
which occurred in the experience of James Hogg, the Ettrick 
Shepherd, the associate of Walter Scott and Christopher Nurth : — 

"He was," quoth the Shepherd, "beyond all comparison, the 
beet dog I ever saw. He was of a surly, unsociable temiDer, dis« 



Intelligence of Dogs. [03 

dainiug all flattery, and refused to be caressed ; but his attention to 
his Master's commands and interests will never again be equalled by 
any of the canine race. When he first came into my possession, ho 
was scarcely a year old, and knew so little of herding, that he had 
never turned a sheep in his life ; but as soon as he discovered that it 
tvas his duty to do so, and that it obliged me, I can never forget with 
what anxietj^ and eagerness he learned his diflPerent evolutions. He 
would try every way deliberately, till he found out what I wanted 
Lim to do ; and when once I made him to understand a direction, he 
never forgot or mistook it again. Well as I knew him, he often 
astonished me ; for when hard pressed in accomplishing the task ho 
was put to, he had expedients of the moment that bespoke a great 
share of the reasoning faculty." 

Mr. Hogg goes on to narrate the following, among other remarkable 
exploits, in illustration of Sirrah's sagacity. About seven hundred 
lambs, which were at once under his care at weaning-time, broke up 
at midnight, and scampered off in three divisions across the hills, in 
spite of all that the Shepherd and an assistant lad could do to keep 
them together. " Sirrah," cried the Shepherd in great affliction, "my 
man, they're a' awa." The night was so dark that he did not see 
Sirrah ; but the faithful animal had heard his master's words — words 
such as of all others were sure to set him most on the alert ; and 
without any delay, he silently set off in quest of the recreant flock. 
Meanwhile the Shepherd and his companion did not fail to do all that 
was in their power to recover their lost charge ; they spent the whole 
night in scouring the hills for miles around, but of neither the lambs 
nor Sirrah could they obtain the slightest trace. "It was the most 
extraordinary circumstance," says the Shepherd, "that had ever 
occurred in the annals of the pastoral life. We had nothing for it 
(day having dawned), but to return to our master, and inform him that 
we had lost his whole flock of lambs, and knew not what was become 
oi ono of them. On our way home, however, we discovered a body 
of lambs at the bottom of a deep ravine, called the Flesh Cleuch, and 
the indefatigable Sirrah standing in front of them, looking all around 
for some relief, but still standing true to his charge. The sun was 
then up ; and when we first came in view of them, we concluded that 
it was one of the divisions ot the lambs, which Sirrah had been 
unable to manage until he came to that commanding situation. But 



I04 Nervous System and its Ftmctions, 

what was our astonishment, when we discovered by degrees that not 
one lamb of the whole flock was wanting ! How he had got all the 
divisions collected in the dark is beyond my comprehension. The 
charge was left entirely to himself, from midnight until the rising of 
fche sun ; and if all the shepherds in the forest had been there to hav6 
Bssisted him, they could not have effected it with greater propriety. 
All that I can further say is, that I never felt so grateful to any 
creature below the sun, as I did to my honest SiiTah that 
morning " 

93. In this and other exercises of Intelligence, we may trace the 
manifestations of an hereditary transmission of aptitudes for par- 
ticular kinds of Mental action, which have been originally acquired 
by habit. Dogs of other breeds cannot be taught to herd sheep in 
the manner wliich " comes naturally " to the young of the Shep- 
herd's Dog. And it is well known that young Pointers and 
Ketrievers, when first taken into the field, will often " work " as 
well as if they had been long trained to the requirements of the 
sportsman. The curious fact was observed by Mr. Knight, that the 
young of a breed of Springing Spaniels which had been trained for 
several successive generations to find Woodcocks, seemed to know 
as well as the old dogs what degree of frost would drive the birds 
to seek their food in unfrozen springs and rills. — Among the 
descendants of the Dogs originally introduced into South America 
by the Spaniards, there are breeds which have learned by their 
own experience, without any Human training, the best modes of 
attacking the wild animals they pursue ; and since young dogs 
have been observed to practise these methods the very first time 
they engage in the chase, with as much address as old dogs, it can 
scarcely be questioned that the tendency to the performance of them 
has been embodied in the Organization of the Race, and is thua 
transmitted hereditarily. — There seems reason to believe that such 
hereditary transmission is limited to acquired peculiarities which 
are simply modifications of the natural constitution of the Race, 
and would not extend to such as may be altogether foreign to it 



Hereditary Transmission of A cqtdred Faculties, 105 

But the foregoing facts would seem to justify the beUef that the 
like hereditary transmission of acquired aptitudes may take place 
in Man j and that, in accordance with the far wider range of hie 
faculties, it may become the means of a far higher exaltation cf 
them (§97). 

94. Whilst^ however, we fully recognize the possession, by many 
of the lower Animals, of an Intelligence comparable (up to a 
certain point) with that of Man, we find no evidence that any of 
them have a Volitional power of directing their Mental operations, 
at all similar to his. These operations, indeed, seem to be of very 
much the same character as those which we perform in Reverie or 
connected Dreams ; different " trains of thought " commencing as 
they are suggested, and proceeding according to the laws of 
Association until some other disturb them. So long, in fact, as 
the current of thought and feeling flows on under the sole 
guidance of Suggestion, and without any interference from the 
Will, it may be considered as the expression of the reflex action oj 
the Cerebrum^ called forth, like that of other Nerve-centres, by the 
stimulus conveyed to it from without ; the seat of that activity 
being its expanded layer of Cortical substance.* This reflex 
action manifests itself not only in Psychical change, but also in 
Muscular movements : and these may either proceed from simple 
Ideas, without any excitement of Feeling, in which case they may 
be designated ideo-motor ; whilst, if they are prompted by a 
Passion or Emotion, they are known as emotional. The nature of 
the response made by the reflex action of the Cerebrum will 
depend upon the condition of that organ at the time when it 
leccives the impression; and that condition, among the lower 
Animals, may be regarded as the residtant, in each individual, ol 

* The extension of the doctrine of Reflex action to the Brain was first advocated 
hy i)i-. Laycock in a very important Essay read before the British Association in 
1.S44 ; and published in the " Bxitish and Foreign Medical Review " for .January, 
1845. 



ro6 Nervous System and its Functions. 

the modifications which its inherited Constitution has nndorgone 
from the influence of external circumstances. 

95. But whilst the Cerebrum of Man, in common with that of 
the lower Animals, has a reflex activity of its own — which, in the 
first instance, may be regarded as the direct resultant of hia 
congenital Constitution, modified by early training, — an additional 
fcud most important influence subsequently comes into play ; 
namely, the directing and controlling power of the Ego's own 
Will, in virtue of which he can to a great degree direct his 
thoughts and control his feelings, and can thus rise superior to 
circumstances, make the most advantageous use of the intellectual 
faculties with which he may be endowed, and keep his appetites 
and passions under subordination to his higher nature. And in 
proportion as he does this, will he so sha'pe his Cerebral mechanism 
(which, like all other parts of the organism, grows-to the manner 
in which it is habitually exercised), that its automatic responses 
will be the expressions of the modes of activity in which he has 
brought it habitually to work, — ^just as the "trained" Horse auto- 
matically does that of itself, which it did originally under the will 
of its master. Thus each Human Ego, at any one moment, may 
be said to be the general resultant of his whole Conscious Life ; the 
direction of which has been determined in the first instance by hia 
congenital Constitution, secondly by the education he has received 
from the Will of others or from the discipline of circumstances, 
and thirdly by the Volitional power he has himself exercised. 

96. It is not only, however, in the possession of this self- 
determining power, that the Psychical nature of Man is distin- 
guished from that of the animals whose organizatic.n most nearly 
tipjn'oaches his own ; for if his Intellectual and Moral capacity were 
limited, as narrowly as theirs seems to be, by the Mechanism of his 
Bruin, he could never pass that limit. So far as the lower animala 
are guided by Instinct, the actions of each species are prompted 
by its own sense of need, and have a direct (though not a lieif- 



Capacity for Psychical Improvement. T07 

designed) adaptation to the supply of them. And these actions we 
see repeated from generation to generation, with no other variation 
than may arise from a change of circumstances, which necessitates 
uome modification of the habit. Even where Intelliyence comes into 
y\^y, and a designed adaptation of means to ends, of actions to 
circumstances, is made by an individual, the Race does not seem 
to profit by that experience. And where the influence of Man has 
been exerted in the domestication of wild animals, it does not 
appear to produce any permanent improvement in their Psychical 
characters, but merely developes it in the manner suitable to his own 
requirements (§ 91) ; so that when such domesticated Races are 
left to themselves, they cease in a few generations to show any 
indication of the training they have received, and relapse into 
their original wildness. In the Human species, on the other hand, 
we observe not merely an unlimited capacity for Psychical eleva- 
tion, but an unlimited desire to attain it ; and this desire serves to 
stimulate Man not merely to the acquirement of knowledge, and 
to the application of it in the amelioration of his physical con- 
dition, but to the improvement of his Moral nature, by determi- 
nately repressing its lower propensities, and by fostering those 
which he feels to constitute the true nobility of his character. 

97. But there is an element in Human nature ranging even 
beyond this desire and capacity for progress ; which, though diffi- 
cult to define, manifestly interpenetrates and blends-with his whole 
Psychical character. '* The Soul," says Francis Newman, " is that 
side of our nature which is in relation with the Infinite ;" and ifc 
is the existence of this relation, in whatever way we may describe 
it, which seems to constitute Man's most distinctive peculiarity. 
Fur it is in the aspiration after a nobler and purer ideal, that the 
highest spring of Human progress may be said to consist; and it ia 
this which is the source of those notions of Truth, Goodness, and 
Beau fey in the abstract, which seem peculiar to the higher types of 
Humanity Whatever capacity for progress may exist among tht 



io8 Nervoics System and its Functions. 

lower Races (and this is a question which still remains open to 
determination by experience), the dedre for it — as among the lowest 
part of our own " practical heathen" population — seems altogctlier 
dormant. When once thoroughly awakened, however, it "grows l»j^ 
ft hat it feeds on ;" and the advance once commenced, little extenial 
Btiroulus is needed, for the desire increases at least as fast as the 
capacity. In the higher grades of Mental development, there is a 
continual looking-upwards, not (as in the lower) towards a more 
elevated Human standard, but at once to something beyond and above 
Man and material nature (§ 213). And in proportion as the love of 
truth for its own sake constitutes the incentive of our Intellectual 
efforts, as the love of goodness for its own sake animates our 
endeavours to bring our own Moral nature into conformity with it, 
and oar love of the highest type of beauty withdraws us from all 
that is low and sensual, are we not only elevating ourselves towards 
our Ideal, but contributing to the elevation of our race. For we 
seem justified by the whole tendency of modern Phj^siological 
research, in the belief that alike by the discipline we exert over 
ourselves, and by the influence we exercise over others, will every 
effort judiciously directed towards the improvement of our Psychical 
nature impress itself upon our Physical constitution ; and that, by 
the genetic transmission of such modifications, will the capacity 
of future generations for yet higher elevation be progressively 
augmented. 

98. It is, in fact, upon the course of our strictly Men*al 
operations, that the Will exerts its most powerful, and what la 
commonly regarded as its most direct influence. But it appears to 
the Writer that this influence is by no means so direct as is com- 
monly supposed ; and that observation of our own Psychicaf 
phenomena entirely justifies the belief, which Physiological consi- 
derations tend to establish, — that the operations of the Cerebrum 
are in themselves as automatic as are those of other Nerve-centres, 
and that the Volitional control which we exercise over o'if 



Relation of Cerebrum to Sensormin. T09 

thoughts, feelings, and actions, operates through the selective 
attention we determinately bestow upon certain of the impressions 
made upon the Sensorium, out of the entire aggregate brought 
thither by the " nerves of the internal senses " (§ 89). In this point 
DfvJew, it is the Sensorium, not the Cerebrum, with which the Will 
is in most direct relation ; and in order that this doctrine 
(which lies at the basis of the whole inquiry as to the relation of 
the Will to motives, and the mode in which it determines our 
character and actions) may be rightly apprehended, it is necessary 
here to consider the following Physiological question : — Whether 
Cerebral changes are in themselves attended with consciousness, or 
whether we only become conscious of Cerebral changes as states of 
ideation, emotion, (&c., through the instrumentality of the Sensorium^ 
— that is, of that aggregate of Sense-ganglia, through the instru- 
mentality of which we become conscious of external Sense-im- 
pressions, and thus feel sensations. 

99. The Brain, as a whole, has been commonly regarded, alike 
by Psychologists and by Physiologists, as "the seat of conscious- 
ness ;" — or, to speak more precisely, as the instrument through 
which we become conscious of the impressions made by external 
objects upon our organs of Sense : whilst the Ego has been sup- 
posed by Metaphysicians to be directly conscious of all Mental 
operations ; or rather, these operations are regarded as " states of 
consciousness," not in any way requiring material instrumentality. 
Those Psychologists, however, who recognize the cogency of those 
considerations which /orce on the Physiologist the conviction that 
** Brain-change " is a necessary condition of all Mental action^ 
appear generally to take for granted that all " Brain-change " 
must be attended with Consciousness : entirely ignoring the fact 
that the Brain is an aggregate of ganglionic centres having 
very distinct functions ; and that the Cerebrum, which in Maa 
is by far the largest of those centres, is not the part of the brain 
which ministers to what may be called the " outer life " of th« 



I lo Nervozcs System and its Fimctions, 

A-nimal, but is the instrument exclusively of its "inner life," — that 
is, of those 'psychical operations, of which the sensations received 
from the outer world constitute the mental pabulum. Now this 
inner life seems to have no existence in that vast section of the 
Animal Kingdom, which is most distinguished by the activity of 
itB outer life, viz. the Class of Insects : and taking the Nervous 
system, of that Class as the type of an automatic Apparatus 
which furnishes all the conditions required for Sensation and 
Motion, as well as for the working of those fixed or mechanical 
modes of action which we term instincts, we have found that a 
precisely analogous Automatic apparatus exists through the 
entire Vertebrated series, that it constitutes almost the whole 
Nervous system of the Fish, and that it is distinctly recognisable 
as the fundamental or essential part of that of Man, in whom the 
vast relative development of the Cerebrum merely indicates a 
supei^addition of new functions, without affording the least ground 
to believe that there is any transfer to it of the proper attributes 
of the automatic Apparatus. And it has been shown that this 
indication is confirmed by the results of the experimental removal 
of the Cerebrum in Birds (§ 78) ; which prove that (due allow- 
ance being made for the disturbance in the action of other parts 
of the Brain, necessarily produced by the operation) the Sensori- 
motor apparatus, which ministers to the outer life, retains its 
functional activity. Further, it has been positively established, 
alike by experiments on Animals, and by observation of the 
phenomena of disease and accident in Man, that the substance 
of the Cerebrum is itself insensible; that is, no injury done to 
it, or physical impression made upon it, is felt by the subject of it 
(See Appendix). As it is clear, therefore, that the presence of ilie 
Cerebrum is not essential to Consciousness, we have next to inquire 
in what way it seems most likely that the Consciousness is affected 
by Cerebral changeg. 

100. When we compare the anatomical relation of the Sensorium, 



Relatio7i of Cerebrum to Sensormm, 1 1 1 

wn the one hand to the Coitical layer of the Cerebrum, and on 
the other to that Retinal expansion of ganglionic matter which 
is the recipient of Visual impressions, we find the two to be so 
precisely identical (§ 89), as to suggest that its physiological 
relation to those two organs must be the same. And as we onlj 
become consciou? of the luminous impression by which Nerve- 
force has beeii excited in the retina, when the transmission of 
that nerve-force through the nerve of external sense has excited 
a change in the Sensorium, so it would seem probable that we 
only heQome conscious oi the further change excited in ourCerebruna 
by the Sensorial stimulus transmitted along its ascending fibres, 
when the reflexion of the Cerebral modification along its descend- 
ing fibres — the nerves of the internal senses— has brought it to 
re-act on the Sensorium. In this point of view, the Sensorium is 
the one centre of consciousness for Visual impressions on the 
Eye (and, by analogy, on the other Organs of Sense), and for 
Ideational or Emotional modifications in the Cerebrum : — that is, 
in the one case, for sensations, when we become conscious of Sense- 
impressions ; and, on the other, for ideas and emotions, when our 
consciousness has been affected by Cerebral changes. Accord- 
ing to this view, we no more thiiik or feel with our Cerebrum, 
than w^e see with our eyes ; but the Ego becomes conscious 
through the same instrumentality of the retinal changes which 
are translated (as it were) by the Sensorium into visual sensa- 
tions, and of the Cerebral changes which it translates into Ideas 
or Emotions. The mystery lies in the act of translation; and 
is no greater in the excitement of ideational or emotional 
consciousness by Cerebral change, than in the excitement of 
tensational consciousness by Retinal change. 

101. Now although there may seem no (I priori objection to this 
view, yet it may be thought to introduce needless complication 
into what was previonsW a simple account of the relation of the 

Brain to Mental phenomena. But this notion of "simplicity" 
12 



1 1 2 Nervous System- and its Ftmctions. 

is really based on ignorance ; and when the phenomena of reprO' 
duced Sensations are carefully considered, they will be found to fit 
in with it so exactly, as scarcely to admit of being accounted 
for in any other way. There are many persons who can bring 
up before the " mind's eye," with extraordinary vividness, t?ije 
pictures of scenes or persons they have been formerly familiar 
with ; while to many who cannot thus recall them volitionally, 
these pictures present themselves automatically, as in dreaming or 
delirium. Thus Dr. Abercrombie relates of Niebuhr, the celebrated 
Danish traveller, that : — 

a, " When old, blind, and so infirm that he was able only to be 
carried from his bed to his chair, he used to describe to his friends 
the scenes which he had visited in his early days, with wonderful 
minuteness and vivacity. When they expressed their astonishment, 
he told them that as he lay in bed, all visible objects shut out, the 
pi-dtures of what he had seen in the East continually floated before 
his mind's eye, so that it was no wonder he could speak of them as 
if he had seen them yesterday. With like vividness, the deep intense 
sky 6f Asia, with its brilliant and twinkling host of stars, which he 
had so often gazed at by night, or its lofty blue vault by day, 
was reflected, in the hours of stillness and darkness, on his inmost 
soul." — Intellectual Powers, 5th Edit., p. 130. 

The same Author relates the following very remarkable example 
of the volitional reproduction of a picture formerly impressed on 
the mental vision, which would be almost too wonderful for belief, 
if it had not been vouched for by so trustworthy an authority 
as the late Dr. Duncan, who had himself seen and compared the 
original picture and the copy reproduced memoriter : — 

h. "In the church of St. Peter at Cologne, the altar-piece is a large 
and valuable picture by Eubens, representing the martyrdom of the 
Apostle. This picture having been carried away by the P'rench 
in 1805, to the great regret of the inhabitants, a painter of that city 
undertook to make a copy of it from recollection ; and succeeded in 
doing so in such a manner, that the most delicate tints of thi 



Production of Spectral Illusions. 113 

OTi;.!:inal are preserved with the most minute accuracy. The originaJ 
painting has now been restored, but the copy is preserved along with 
It ; and even when they are rigidly compared, it is scarcely possible 
to distinguish the one from the other." — Op. cit. p. 131. 

102 Now it will not be questioned by any Psychologist, that 
what were perceived in these two cases were the ideatixmal 
rf presentations or concepts of what were formerly presented to 
the Mind as objects of sensation; and it would seem scarcely 
to admit of question, that the same Sensorial state must be excited 
in the one case as in the other, — that state of the Sensorium which 
was originally excited by impressions conveyed to it by the 
nerves of the external senses, being reproduced by impressions 
brought down to it from the Cerebrum by the nerves of the 
internal senses. In fact, the real complexity lies in supposing that 
Mental states so closely related as the perception of a present 
object, and the conception of a remembered object, are produced 
through the instrumentality of two different " seats of conscious- 
ness," the Sensorium in the one case, and the Cerebrum in the other. 

103. Still stronger evidence of the same associated action of the 
Cerebrum and Sensorium, is furnished by the study of the 
phenomena designated as Spectral Illusions. These are clearly 
Sensorial states not excited by external objects ; and it is also clear 
that they frequently originate in Cerebral changes, since they 
represent creations of the Mind, and are not mere reproductions of 
past sensations. The following very interesting experience, which 
was several years ago communicated to the Writer by the 
distinguished subject of it (who subsequently published it in fuller 
detail), affords a striking confirmation, not only of the doctrine here 
advocated, but also of that further development of it which will be 
made hereafter under the title of " Unconscious Cerebration " 
(Cliap. XIII.) ; and it seems to give the clue to the rationale of 
another large class of obscure phenomena, that may now bo 
fiairly regarded as results of Physical changes of which w« 



1 1 4 Nervous System and its Fttnctions, 

are unconscious even when our Attention is directed to them 
(§ 424). 

Sir John Herschel stated that he was subject to the involuntuty 
occurrence of Visual impressions, into which Geometrical legulaiity 
of form enters as the leading character. These were not of tlia 
nature of those ocular Spectra which may be attributed with pro- 
bability to retinal changes (§ 140) ; " for what is to determine the in- 
cidence of pressure or the arrival of vibrations from without, upon a 
geometrically devised pattern on the retinal surface, rather than on 
its general ground ?" 

" They are evidently not Dreams. The mind is not dormant, but 
active and conscious of the direction of its thoughts ; while these things 
obtrude themselves on notice, and, by calling attention to them, 
direct the train of thought into a channel it would not have taken of 
itself." 

Even supposing the phenomenon to be the result of a retinal change 
excited through the Optic nerve, instead of ab externa, the question re- 
mains — ' ' Where does the pattern itself, or its prototype in the intellect, ori- 
ginate ? Certainly not in any action consciously exerted by the Mind ; for 
both the particular pattern to be formed, and the time of its appearance, 
are not merely^ beyond our will or control, but beyond our knowledge. 
If it be true that the conception of a regular geometrical pattern 
implies the exercise of thought and intelligence, it would almost seem 
that in such cases as those above adduced we have evidence of a 
thought, an intelligence, working within our own organization dis- 
tinct from that of our own personality, in a manner we have absolutely 
no part in, except as spectators of the exhibition of its results." — 
Familiar Lectures on Scientific Subjects, pp. 406-412. 

We have here not a reproduction of Sensorial impressions formerly 
received ; but a construction of new forms, by a process which, 
if it had been carried on consciously/, we bfiould have called 
Imagination. And it is difficult to see how it is to be accounted for 
in any other way, than by an unconscious action of the Cerebrum ; 
the products of which impress themselves on the Sensorial con- 
Bciousness, just as, in other cases, they express themselves through 
the Motor apparatus (§ 425), 



Singleness of the Sensormm. 115 

104. It may not improbably be in this manner, that a nnmber 
of those so-called "spiritual" phenomena are producedj in 
which "subjective" Sensations of various kinds are distinctly 
felt by persons who are not only wide awake, but are entirely 
trustworthy on all other matters, though self-deceived as to the 
reality of the objective sources of their sensations. Having 
resigned the exercise of their Common Sense quoad this particular 
set of beliefs, and having allowed them to gain a mastery over 
their ordinary course of thought, there is nothing wonderful in the 
automatic and unconscious evolution of results corresponding to 
these beliefs ; which results, impressing themselves on the Sen- 
Borium, are felt as true sensations. And just as Sir John Herschel 
truly saw as geometrical forms the unconscious constructions of his 
own Cerebrum, so, it seems probable, may the " spiritualist" truly 
see the strange things he describes as actual occurrences, although 
they have no foundation whatever in fact (§ 147). 

105. Another consideration which strongly indicates that the 
action of Cerebral changes on the Muscular apparatus is exerted 
through the instrumentality of the Sensorial apparatus, is the 
identity of the effects often produced by ideas, with those pro- 
duced by sights, sounds, or other Sensations which call forth 
respondent motions. Thus in a person predisposed to yawn, the 
verbal suggestion of the notion of yawning is almost as pro- 
vocative of the act, as the sight or sound of a yawn in another. 
So, again, a *' ticklish " person is affected in the same way by 
the mental state suggested by the i^ointing of a finger, as by 
the actual contact. And so in a hydrophobic patient, the same 
paroxysm is excited by the idea of water suggested by words or 
pjiitures, as by the actual sight or sound of it. So far, then, 
fiom being a source of additional complexity, the doctrine of 
the singleness of the Sensorial nerve-centre, through the instru- 
mentality of which we become conscious alike of Sense-im- 
pressions and of Cerebral changes, and from which the Motof 



1 1 6 Nervous Syste7n and its Fimctions, 

in>pulses to respondent action immediately proceed, will be fouiid 
(t he Writer believes) to lead to a real simplification in th'^i inter 
jji-etation cf a large class of phenomena occupying the border 
ground between Physical and Psychical action. 

106. That the different portions of the Cerebrum should havr 
different parts to perform in that wonderful series of operations by 
\^hich the Brain as a whole becomes the instrument of the Mind, 
can scarcely be regarded as in itself improbable. But no deter- 
mination of this kind can have the least scientific value, that is not 
based on the facts of Comparative Anatomy and Embryonic 
Development. In ascending the Vertebrate series, we find that 
this organ not only increases in relative size, and becomes more 
complex in general structure, but undergoes progressive additions 
which can be defined with considerable precision. For the Cere- 
brum of Oviparous Vertebrata is not a miniature representative of 
the entire Cerebrum of Man, but corresponds only with its 
" anterior lobe ; " and is entirely deficient in that great transverse 
commissure, the corpus callosum (§ 89), the first appearance of 
which, in the Placental Mammals, constitutes " the greatest and 
most sudden modification exhibited by the brain in the whole 
Vertebrated series" (Huxley). It is among the smooth -brained 
liodentia that we meet with the first distinct indication of a " middle 
lobe," marked off from the anterior by the " fissure of Sylvius ; " 
this lobe attains a considerably greater development in the 
Carnivora ; but even in the Lemurs it still forms the hindermost 
portion of the Cerebrum. The "posterior lobe" makes its first 
appearance in Morikeys ; and is distinctly present in the anthropoid 
Apes. The evolution of the Human Cerebrum follows the same 
co\5rse. For in the first phase of its development which presents 
itvself during the second and third months, there is no indication 
of any but the anterior lobes ; in the second, which lasts from the 
latter part of the third month to the beginning of the fifth, tho 
jjuddle lobes make their appearance ; and it is not until the latter 



Localization of Cerebral Functions. 117 

part of the fifth month that the third period commeDces, cha- 
racterized by the development of the posterior lobes, which sprout, 
as it were, from the back of the middle lobes, and remain for soma 
time distinctly marked off from them by a furrow. The exact 
mutual confirmation afforded by these two sources of knowledge 
seems fatal to the ordinary Phrenological doctrine, which locates 
in the posterior part of the Cerebrum those Instincts and Propen- 
sities which Man shares with the lower Animals j while it would 
lead us to regard the 'posterior lobes as the instruments of those 
higher forms of Ideational activity by which Man is especially dis- 
tinguished, and the anterior and middle lobes as the instruments 
of those simplei Ideational states which are the most general forms 
of Mental activity, being most directly excited by Sensorial sug- 
gestions. And it seems probable that evidence to this effect may 
be derived from a careful comparison of the Cerebral convolutions 
in different animals ; the researches of Leuret, Gratiolet, and 
others having made it clear that notwithstanding the apparent 
indefiniteness of their distribution in Man, a distinct plan shows 
itself in their arrangement in each Family (this being simpler in 
the smaller members of it, and more complex in the larger), and 
that certain identities are traceable between the fundamental con- 
volutions in representatives of different Families. The lower 
Quadrumana, for example, present a sort of sketch of the plan on 
which the convolutions are arranged in the higher Apes ; and 
whilst the study of the latter gives the key to the complex 
arrangement of the convolutions in the Human Cerebrum, that of 
the former enables the Simioid plan to be correlated with that of 
inferior types. (See Appendix.) — One remarkable localization of 
Sanction to which recent Pathological enquiry has been thought 
to point, will be considered hereafter (§ 35 5)^ 



I iS Nerzous Syste7n and its Ftmctions, 



Section 4. General Summary : — Functional Relations of the 
Ganglionic Centres of the Cerehro- Spinal System, yf Man: — 
SympatJietic System. 

107. It was well remarked by Cuvier, that the different tribes of 
Animals may be said to be so many " experiments ready prepaiod 
for us by Nature ; who adds to, or takes from, the aggregate of 
their organs, just as we might wish to do in our laboratories, 
showing us at the same time in their actions the results of such 
addition or subtraction." And to no part of the organization of 
Animals is this view more applicable, than it is to the Nervous 
apparatus ; for the different Ganglionic centres which are combined 
in the Cerebrospinal system of Man and the higher Vertebrates, 
have such an intimate structural relation to each other, and so 
much more frequently act consentaneously than separately, that, 
notwithstanding the abundant evidence of the diversity of their 
respective endowments, there is considerable difficulty in the 
determination of their special functions ; since the destruction or 
removal of any one portion of the Nervous system, not only puts 
a stop to the phenomena to which that portion is directly sub- 
servient, but so deranges the general train of nervous activity, that 
it often becomes impossible to ascertain, by any such method, 
what is its real share in the entire performance. — Under the 
guidance of Comparative Anatomy, however, we are enabled to 
recognize the following Ganglionic centres as essentially distinct in 
function, however intimately connected in structure : — 

I. — The Spinal Cord, consisting of a tract of ganglionic matter 
fiiiclosed within strands of longitudinal fibres, and giving-oif suc- 
cessive pairs of nerves which are connected at their roots with both 
of these components. This obviously corresponds with the 
gangliated Ventral cord of the Articulata ; chiefly differing from 
'it in the continuity of the ganglionic tract which occupies its 



Functional Relations of Ganglionic Centres. 119 

interior. And each segmental division of it, which serves as the 
centre of Reflex action for its own pair of nerves, may be con- 
sidered, like each ganglion of the ventral cord of the Articalata, 
as a repetition of the single " pedal " ganglion of those Mollusca 
which have but on€ instrument of locomotion. 

11. — The Medulla Oblongata^ or prolongation of the Spinal Cord 
Tvithin the skull ; which consists of a set of strands that essentially 
correspond with the cords passing round the oesophagus in Inverte- 
brated animals, and connecting the cephalic ganglia with the first 
gangUon of the trunk; although, as the whole Cerebro-spinal axis 
of the Vertebrata lies ahove the alimentary canal (the trunk 
being supposed to be in a horizontal position), there is no divergence 
of these strands to give it passage. Interposed among them, how- 
ever, are certain collections of ganglionic matter, which serve as the 
centres for the reflex movements of Respiration and Deglutition, 
corresponding with the separate respiratory and stomato-gastric 
ganglia found in many Invertebrated animals. — This incorporation 
of so many distinct centres into one system, would seem destined 
in part to afford to all of them the protection of the Vertebral 
column ; and in part to secure that consentaneousness of action, 
and that ready means of mutual influence, which are peculiarly 
requisite in beings in whom the activity of the Nervous system is 
KO predominant. Thus the close connection which is established in 
the higher Vertebrated animals, between the Respiratory and the 
general Motor apparatus, is obviously subservient to the use 
which the former makes of the latter in the performance of its 
functions ; whilst, on the other hand, the control which their 
Cephalic centres possess over the actions of the Respiratory ganglia^ 
enables the Will to regulate the inspiratory and expiratory move- 
ciflnts lA the manner required fur the acts of Vocalization. 

Hi. — The Sensory Ganglia, comprehending that assemblage of 
ganglionic masses lying along the base of the skull in Man, and 
partly included in the Medulla Oblongata, in wiiich the nerves of 



r 20 Nervoics System and its Functions. 

the special Senses, — Taste, Hearing, Sight, and Smell, — have theij 
central terminations. With these may probably be associated the 
two pairs of ganglionic bodies known as the Corpora Striata and 
Thalarai Optici ; into which may be traced the greater proporti( n 
of the fibres that constitute the various strands of the Medulla 
Oblongata, and which seem to stand in the same kind of relation 
tu the nerves of Touch or common sensation, that the Olfactive, 
Optic, Auditory, and Gustative ganglia bear to their several nerve- 
trunks. — These Ganglia, the aggregate of which constitutes the 
Sensorium^ are the centres of Reflex movements prompted by the 
impressions brought to them by the several nerves of sense. 

The foregoing together constitute the Automatic Apparatus 
which ministers to our purely animal or outer life^ namely, the 
functions of Sensation and Locomotion ; and which also sustains 
the movements that are necessary for the maintenance of our 
Organic functions. To this apparatus is superadded : — 

IV. — The Cerebrum, — the instrument of our Psychical or inner 
life; of which organ, although it is so enormously developed m 
Man as apparently to supersede the Sensorial centres, scarcely 
a trace exists in the lowest Vertebrates; and the relative 
proportion borne by which to the Sensorial centres, in regard 
alike to size and to complexity of structure, corresponds closely 
with the degree of predominance which the Intelligence pos- 
sesses over the Animal Instincts. Much of its action, how- 
ever, may still be purely automatic in its nature; for so long 
as the current of Thought and Feeling flows-on' in accordance 
with the direct promptings of suggestion, and without any inter- 
ference from Volition, it may be considered as a manifestation of the 
roflex activity of the Cerebrum, which takes the form of a 
mental instinct. This reflex activity manifests itself not only in 
the Psj^chical operations themselves, but also in Muscular move- 
ments : and these, when they proceed from simple Ideas, without 
ftny excitement cf feeling, may be designated as ideo-motor i 



Functional Relations of Ganglionic Centres, 121 

wliilst, if they spring from a Passion or Emotion, they are termed 
tmothnal. The mental Instincts, however, are by no means as 
invariable in the different mdividuals of the same species, as are 
the animal Instincts of that inferior part of the Nervoua 
apparatus which is more closely connected with the maintenaiica 
of the Organic life: the particular changes which any given 
suggestion will excite m each individual, being partly determined 
by original constitution^ and partly by acquired habits ; and the 
hereditary constitution being itself determined to a large extent 
by the acquired habits of the ancestral Race. — There seems a 
strong prol;ability that there is not (as was formerly supposed) a 
direct continuity between even all or any of the Nerve-fibres dis- 
tributed to the body, and those of the Medullary substance of the 
Cerebrum. For whilst the nerves of special sense have their own 
e,angliouic centres, it cannot be shown that the nerves of 
common Sensation have any higher destination than the 
tlialami optici. So, the Motor fibres which pass-forth from the 
Brain, though commonly, designated as cerebral, cannot be 
certainly said to have a higher origin than the corpora striata. 
And there is strong reason to believe that the Cerebrum has no 
communication with the external world, otherwise than by its con- 
nection with the Sensori-motor apparatus ; and that even the 
movements which are usually designated voluntary/ (or more 
ccrrectly volitional), are on\j so as regards their original source^ 
— the stimulus which immediately calls the Muscles into contraction 
being still supplied from the automatic centres. 

V. — Wherever a Cerebrum is superimposed upon the Sennorj 
ganglia, we find another ganglionic mass, the Cerebellum, super- 
imposed upon the Medulla oblongata. The development Df this 
crgan bears a general, but by no means a constant, relation to that 
of the Cerebrum ; for in the lowest Fishes it is a thin lamina of 
nervous matter on the median line, only partially covering-iu tha 
fissure between the two lateral halves of the upper part of the 



r22 Nervous System audits Functions, 

S| inal cord (§ 64); whilst in the higher Mammalia, as in 
2^1 an, it is a mass of considerable size, having two lateral lobes or 
hemispheres, in addition to its central portion (Fig. 11). The 
dij ect communication which the Cerebellum has with both solumna 
of the Spinal cord, and the comparatively slight connection which 
it ]iossesses with the higher portions of the Brain, justify the sup- 
position that it is rather concerned in the regulation and co-ordina- 
tion of the Muscular movements, than in any proper Psychical 
operations ; and though its precise function is still unknown, that 
general conclusion seems in harm.ony with our best knowledge on 
the subject. (See Appendix.) 

108. Now although every segment of the Spinal oord and evf ry 
pair of the Sensory ganglia, may be considered, in common with 
the Cerebrum, as an independent centre of Nervous power, yet 
this independence is only manifested when these organs are sepa- 
rated from each other ; either structurally — by actual division, or 
functionally — by partial suspension of activity. In their state of 
perfect integrity and complete functional activity, they are for the 
most part (at least in Man) in such subordination to the Cerebrum, 
tha.t they only minister to its actions ; except in so far as they are 
subservient to the maintenance of the Organic functions, as in the 
automatic acts of breathing and swallowing. The impressions 
which call forth these and similar movements, ordinarily excite 
them by the direct reflex action of the lower centres, without 
passing-on to the Cerebrum ; so that we only perceive them when 
we specially direct our attention to them, or when tiiey exist in 
unusual potency. Thus we are ordinarily unconscious of tnat 
internal need for air, by which our movements of Respiration are 
|TOinpted ; and it is only when we have refrained Irom breathing 
for a few seconds, that we experience a sensation of uneasin'^ss 
which impels us to make forcible efforts for its relief. Notwith- 
standing, however, that the Cerebrum is unconcerned in the 



Functional Relations oj Ganglionic Centres. 123 



ordinary performance of those automatic movements, yet it can 
exert a certain degree of control over many of them, so as even tdf 
Buspend them for a time ; but in no instance can it carry this svis- 
pension to such an extent, as seriously to disarrange the Organic 
functions. Thus, when we have voluntarily refrained from breatli- 
ing for a few seconds, the inspii-atory impulse so rapidly increases 
in strength with the continuance of the suspension, that it at last 
overcomes the most powerful effort we can make for the repression 
of the movements to which it prompts. That the Will should have 
a certain degree of control over such movements, is necessary in 
order that they may be rendered subservient to various actions 
which are necessary for the due exercise of Man's Psychical powers ; 
but that they should not be left dependent upon its exercise, and 
should even be executed in opposition to it, when the wants of the 
system imperatively demand their performance, constitutes an 
essential provision for the security of Life against the chance of 
inattention or momentary caprice, as well as for maintaining it 
during the unconsciousness of sleep. 

109. In that action and reaction, however, between the Mind 
and all that is outside it, in which the Conscious Life of every 
Human Ego consists, the whole Cerebro- spinal system participates. 
For in virtue of the peculiar arrangement of the Nervous ap- 
paratus, every exciter impression travels in the upward direction, 
if it meet with no interruption, until it reaches the Cerebrum, 
without exciting any reflex movements in its course. When it 
arrives at the Sensorium, it makes an impression on the con- 
Bciousness of the individual, and thus gives rise to a sensation; 
and the change there induced, being propagated onwards to the 
Cerebrum, becomes the occasion of further changes in its cortical 
substance, the downward reflexion of whose results to the Sen- 
Bormm gives rise to the formation of an idea. If with this idea any 
pleasurable or painful feeling should be associated, it assumes the 
character of an emotion ; and either as a simple or as an emotional 



124 Nervous System ajid its Functiojts. 

idea, it becomes the stimulus to further Cerebral changes, which, 
when we become conscious of them, we call Intellectual operations. 
These may express themselves either directly in respondent Move- 
ments ; or indirectly, by supplying motives to the Will ; which 
may exert itself either in producing or in checking Muscular 
movement, or in controlling or directing the current of Thought 
and Feeling. 

110. But if this ordinary upward course be anywhere interrup ted, 
the impression will then exert its power in a transverse direction, 
and a reflex action will be the result ; the nature of this being 
dependent upon the part of the Cerebro-spinal axis at which the 
ascent had been checked. Thus if the interruption be produced 
by division or injury of the Spinal cord, so that its lower part is 
cut-off from communication with the Cephalic centres, this portion 
then acts as an independent centre ; and impressions made upon 
it, through the afferent nerves proceeding to it from the lower ex- 
tremities, excite violent reflex movements, which, being thus pro- 
duced without sensation, are designated as excito-motor. — So, again, 
if the impression should be conveyed to the Sensorium, but should 
be prevented by the removal of the Cerebrum, or by its state 
of functional inactivity, or by the direction of its activity into 
some other channel, from calling-forth Ideas through the instru- 
mentality of that organ, it may re-act upon the Motor apparatus by 
the reflex power of the Sensory ganglia themselves. Such actions, 
being dependent upon the prompting of Sensations, are sensori- 
motor or consensual. — But further, even the Cerebrum responds 
automatically to impressions fitted to excite it to reflex action, 
when from any cause the Will is in abeyance, so that its power 
cannot be exerted either over the muscular system or over the 
direction of the thoughts and feelings. Thus in the states of 
Keverief, Dreaming, Somnambulism, &c., whether spontaneous or 
artificially induced (Chaps. XIV. — XVI.), ideas which take full pos- 
session of the mind, and from which it cannot free itself, may 



Functional Relations of Ganglionic Centres. 125 



excite respondent ideo-motor actions ; as happens also when the 
force of the Idea is morbidly exaggerated, and the Will is not 
suspended, but merely weakened, as in many forms of Insanity 
(Chap. XIX). 

111. The general views here put-forth in regard to the indepen- 
dent and connected actions of the several primary divisions of the 
Cerebrospinal apparatus, may perhaps be rendered more intelligible 
by the following Table; which is intended to represent (1) the 



THE WILL 

Tntellectual Operations 



t 



Emotions 



Ideas 



t 
t 



Cekebrttm 

centre of Emotional and Idco-motor reflexion 



Sensauons w Sensohy Ganglia. 



t 



Impressions 



centre of Se«sori-TOof or reflexion 

Motor 
Impulse 
Spinal Cord y- ' 

centre of Excito-motor reflexion 



ordinary course of operation, when the whole is in a state of complete 
functional activity, and (2) the character of the Reflex actions to 
which each part is subservient, when it is the highest centre that 
the impression can reach. 

112. The Cerebro-spinal system is intimately blended with an- 
other set of Ganglionic centres and Nerve-trunks, scattered through 
different parts of the body, but mutually connected with each other, 
which is termed the Sympathetic system.* The principal ganglionic 

* This System has been sometimes termed the ganglionic system, on account 
of the connection of its nerve -trunks with isolated and scattered centres, in 
striking contrast with the coutinaity and apparent fusion of the ganglionic 



1 26 Nei^vous System and its Functions, 

centres of, this system are the two great Semilunar Ganglia^ which 
lie in the abdominal cavity near the spine, and from which there 
issues a radiating series of trunks and branches, constituting the 
great Solar plexus, to be distributed to the muscular walls of the 
Intestinal canal along its whole length, and also to the various 
Glandular organs in connection with it. There are two other 
principal though smaller systems of ganglia and nerves ; one in 
connection with the Heart and great bloodvessels, constituting the 
Cardiac plexus; and the other in connection with the organs of 
reproduction and other viscera contained in the cavity of the 
pelvis, constituting the Hypogastric plexus. These plexuses com- 
municate by connecting cords with a chain of Prevertebral ganglia, 
which lies along the front of the Spine on each side ; and this, in its 
turn, communicates with the Spinal ganglia, which are ganglionic 
enlargements on the posterior roots of the Spinal nerves (§ 62). 
There are also several small ganglionic centres in the Head; which 
have the same kind of connection with its ordinary senscry and 
motor nerves, that the prevertebral ganglia have with those of the 
trunk. In virtue of these communications, the trunks and 
branches of the Sympathetic system contain, in addition to their own 
fibres (which are distinguished from the Cerebro-spinal by not 
possessing the double border that is given by the " white substance 
of Schwann," § 36), a great number of fibres derived from the 
Cerebro-spinal system. On the other hand, the Cerebro-spinal 
nerves contain Sympathetic fibies, sometimes in considerable 
quantity. 

113. The Sympathetic system is sometimes designated the 

centres of tte Cerebro-spinal system. And an analogy has even been drawn 
between tlie chain of 'prevertebral ganglia of the Sympathetic, and the Ventral 
cord of Articulated animals. But this analogy entirely fails when we look at 
the distribution of the two sets of nerves, and the functions to which they 
respectively minister ; since it is perfectly clear from such comparison, that it is 
the Spinal cord of Vertebrata which really represents the Ventral cord ol 
Articulata, as a series of locomotive or Pedal ganglia. 



Sympathetic System, 127 



nervous system of Organic Life, to distinguish it from the Cerebro- 
spinal system, which is the nervous system of Animal Life. Its 
Tfutor action is exerted upon the Muscular walls of the Alimentary 
canal, of the Heart and Arteries, of the Gland- ducts, Uterus, and 
other organs ; as has been ex[)erimentally proved by irritating 
these trunks immediately after the death of an animal. But as 
the very same contractions may be excited by irritating the roots 
of those Spinal nerves from which the several Sympathetic plexuses 
receive fibres, there is reason to believe that the motor endowments 
of the Sympathetic system are chiefly dependent on its connec- 
tion with the Cerebro-spinal, And this seems to be especially the 
case with that very important division of the Sympathetic which is 
distributed on the walls of the Arteries, now known as the Vaso- 
motor system. For the real centre of this system, which has for 
its function to regulate the supply of blood to different parts, by 
its action on the calibre of the Arteries, appears to lie in the 
Medulla oblongata \ from which also proceed certain nerve-fibres 
(included in the trunks of the Pneumogastric or Par vagum), which 
have a special influence on the movements of the Heart, and 
which probably regulate their rate in accordance with that of 
Respiratory action. — No motor power can be exerted through the 
Sympathetic system by any act of Will ; but the muscular actions 
of many of the parts just enumerated are greatly affected by 
Emotional states ; and this is particularly the case in regard to 
those of the Heart and Arteries. Thus we continually see the 
action of the heart quickened by Emotional excitement ; whilst 
a violent "shock" to the feelings may seriously reduce it (as in 
fainting), or may even completely paralyse it. Of the action of the 
Emotions, through the same channel, on the Blood-vessels, we 
have a familiar example in the phenomenon of blushing ; and this is 
only one of (probably) a vast number of changes thus induced, some 
of which have a very important influence on our Mental operations 

(§§ '^^^') 472). The blood-vessels that supply some of the (Elands 
13 



128 Nervous System and its Fimcttons. 



most directly affected by Mental states — such as the LaclirymaL 
the Salivary, and the Mammary, — seem to receive their supply of 
vaso-motor nerves direct from the Cerebro-spinal System ; and it 
is by the influence of those nerves in determining the calibre of 
thiir arteries, that the quantity of the Secretion is regulated ; aa 
in the sudden flow of Tears, of Saliva, or of Milk. Those portions 
of the Glandular apparatus, on the other hand, the amount of 
whose secretions is affected, not so much by mental conditions, as 
by states of other parts of the Visceral apparatus, are supplied by 
the Sympathetic exclusively, or nearly so. 

114. Whatever /S^cwsor?/ endowments are possessed by the parts 
supplied by the Sympathetic system, must be referred to the 
same connection with the Cerebro-spinal system. In the ordinary 
condition of the body, there is no evidence of the possession of any 
such endowments ; for the organs exclusively supplied by the 
Sympathetic system perform their functions without our conscious- 
ness, and no sign of pain is given when the Sympathetic nerve-trunks 
are irritated. But in diseased conditions of those organs, violent 
pains are often felt in them ; and experiment shows that whilst 
slight irritations of the healthy organs call forth no indications of 
suffering, such indications are manifested when the impression is 
made stronger. It is clear, therefore, that the effect of such 
impressions, when unusually strong, must be transmitted to the 
Sensorium ; and the reason why they do not ordinarily proceed 
thither, is probably because the excitor impulse is usually expended 
in calling forth reflex movement through the Sympathetic ganglia 
themselves. There is a remarkable tendency to radiation in 
such impulses, in virtue of the extraordinary intercommunication 
between different parts of the Sympathetic system ; and it is in 
this manner that those " morbid sympathies " between remote 
organs are established, which have a very important share in the 
phenomena of disease. 

115. There is considerable evidence, moreover, that the 



Sympathelic System. 129 

Sympathetic system has a modifying influence on the Nutrition 
of the body, and on the quality (as well as on the quantity) of 
the Secretions. And it seems probable that this is exerted through 
the proper fibres of the Sympathetic, rather than through those 
©I the Cerebro-spinal system. This influence has been especially 
Btiidied in the case of the Fifth Pair (Fig. 11), which is the nerve 
<>f common Sensation for the head and face, and which contains 
a great number of Sympathetic fibres that have their centre in 
a large ganglion on its sensory root. For it has been found that 
if its trunk be divided after having passed through the ganglion, 
a disorganizing inflammation of the Eye always follows ; whilst 
if the roots be divided, so as to cut off all the Cerebro-spinal 
fibres from their centre, whilst the fibres proceeding from the 
Sympathetic ganglion can still go on to the eye, the derangement 
of its nutrition is either wanting altogether, or is greatly diminished 
in intensity. — There can be no doubt whatever, that though 
the Will can exert no modifying influence on the Nutritive 
operations, yet that these are very much afiected by mental 
states; and especially by the persistence of that which may be 
termed expectant attention, whose remarkable action will form the 
subject of special consideration hereafter (Chap. XIX.). 

Note. 

Since the foregoing Chapter was m type, Dr. Ferrier has obtained 
a very remarkable series of Experimental results, by the application 
of Faradic Electricity to the Cortical substance of the Cerebrum, and 
to other Ganglionic centres of the Brain, in different animals. Ah 
these results — so far as they have been yet made public — do not 
appear to the Writer in any way inconsistent with the views set 
forth in the preceding pages, but, on the contrary, serve to coiifirro 
and extend them, he has thought it preferable to leave in its original 
shape the expression of the opinions at which he had arrived long 
previously, and had recorded in nearly the same words ; deferring to 
the Appendix an account of Dr. Ferrier's experiments, with the 
inferences which they seem in the Writer's judgment to warrant. 



CHAPTER III. 

OF ATTENTION. 

116. It has been the Writer's object in the preceding Chapter, not 
only to ezpl»iu i:he general structure and working of the Nervous 
mechanism, but also to indoctrinate the Reader with that idea of 
its reHex activity, which we derive from experiment on the lower 
Animals, and from observation of the phenomena of disease or 
injury in Man. For the information we obtain from the study of 
the lower centres, in regard to tuat form of reaction which mani- 
fests itself directly in Musculai motion, furnishes the key to the 
study of that reflex activity of the higher centres, which expresses 
itself in states of Consciousness, — namely, in the production 
of Sensations, the formation of Ideas, and the excitement of 
Emotions ; these states of activity being either the excitors of 
other Cerebral changes of the like kind, or discharging them- 
selves (so to speak) by operating downwards on the Muscular 
apparatus. — It seems desirable, at our very entrance upon the 
enquiry into the action of these higher centres (which is, in fact, 
the Ph}siology of the Mind), to take special note of the active as 
distinguished from the passive state of recipiency for impressions 
which are brought to the Sensorium, whether by the nerves of the 
txt^rnal or by those of the internal senses (§ 89) ; in virtue of which 
%tijix our Attention either on something that is going on outside >w^, 
or on something that is going on within us, instead of being 
affected by each impression exactly in proportion to its strength. 
For it is in the power which the Will possesses over the direction 
of this active recipiency, or Attention, that the capacity of the Ego, 
alike for the systematic acquirement of Knowledge, for th? 



A ctive Receptivity for Impressions. 131 

conTol of the Passions and Emotions, and for the regulation of 
the Conduct, mainly consists. In studying the working of the 
" Mechanism of Thought and Feeling," therefore, we must first trace 
the effect of Attention on each principal form of Mental activity, 

117. The augmented recipiency of the Sensorium for some particU' 
lar kind of impression, involves — apparently as its direct consequence 
— a proportionate reduction, or even an entire suspension, of its reci- 
piency for impressions of other kinds. The Philosopher who is 
walking in a crowded thoroughfare, may have his attention so 
completely engrossed by an internal " train of thought," that he 
takes no heed whatever of what is going on around him, so long as 
this does not interfere with his onward progress ; his vision having 
been passively exercised merely in directing his Muscular move- 
ments, and none of its impressions having gone up further than 
the Sensorium, the activity of which has been limited for the time 
to its Cerebral side. 

The Writer was informed by Mr. John S. Mill, when his ** System of 
Logic " was first published, that he had thought-out the greater 
part of it during his daily walks between Kensington and the India 
House ; and himself more than once met Mr. Mill in Cheapside, at 
its fullest afternoon tide, threading his way among the foot-pas- 
sengers with which its narrow pavement was crowded, with the air 
of a man so deeply absorbed in his own contemplations that he would 
not recognize a friend, and yet not jostling his fellows or coming into 
collision with lamp-posts. 

On the other hand, the Countryman who comes up to London 
for the first time, may have his attention so attracted by the 
novelties he sees at every step, as to be led with difficulty to discuss 
a matter of business with the friend with whom he is walking. But 
Buppose the Philosopher's course to be checked by some unusual 
obstruction, — such as a procession, or a street-accident, — the 
activity of his Sensorium is diverted from its Cerebral (or Intel* 
lecLual) to its Sensational side ; in other words, his attention is 



Y a 2 Of A tten Hon, 



given to v.'hat is passing outside himself, rather than to what is 
pressing tvithin himself; his train of thought is completely in 
torrupted ; and he cannot recover it, until his attention is no 
longer occupied by the difficulty of making his way onward, which 
has temporarily diverted it. On the other hand, the nature of the 
communication which the Countryman receives from his friend, 
may be of a kind so powerfully to interest him, whether pleasure- 
ably or painfully, — as, for example, his inheritance of a fortune, or 
the success of a commercial speculation ; or, on the other hand, a 
serious loss of property, or the adverse decision of a law-suit, — 
that from the moment he receives the news, he takes no note of 
the novelties which previously attracted him so strongly ; but gives 
his whole attention to the particulars which his friend has to com- 
municate. 

118. Now this state of active Oi^ compared with passive recipiency, 
— of Attention as compared with mere Insouciance — may be either 
volitional or automatic; that is, it may be either intentionally 
induced by an act of the Will, or it may be produced unintentionally 
by the powerful attraction which the object (whether external or 
internal) has for the Ego. Hence, when wejix our Attention on a 
particular object by a determinate act of our own, the strength of 
the effort required to do so is greater, in proportion to the attrac- 
tiveness of some o^/ier object. Thus, the Student who is earnestly 
endeavouring to comprehend a passage in " Prometheus," or to 
solve a Mathematical problem, may have his attention grievou.siy 
distracted by the sound of a neighbouring piano, which will make 
him think of the fair one who is j)laying it, or of the beloved object 
with whom he last waltzed to the same measure. Here the Will 
may do its very utmost to keep the attention fixed, and may ^'^'et 
be overmastered by an involuntary attraction too potent for it ; 
just as if a powerful electro-magnet were to snatch from our 
hands a piece of iron which we do our yqyj utmost to retain 
within our grasp. Or, again, when *' the thoughts begin to 



Education of Attention, 133 

wander" through atigue of Brain, a powerful effort of the Will 
may be needed to keep them fixed on the completion of a task 
which the Ego has determined to execute, until the strongest 
VoUtiou can no longer resist the imperious demand of the Physical 
mechanism for repose. Yet even then, the attractiveness of some 
new object (the coming-in, for example, of an anxiously-desired 
book, or the unexpected arrival of a friend charged with important 
news) shall produce not only a complete awakening of the atten- 
tion, but an irresistible diversion of it into a new channel. 

119. The power of the Will over the state of attention is there- 
fore not unlimited ; and its degree varies greatly in different 
individuals. In the young Child, as among the lower Animals, 
the Attention seems purely automatic^ being solely determined by 
the attractiveness of the object; and the diversion of it from 
one object to another simply depends upon the relative force of the 
two attractions. It is this automatic fixation of the attention on 
the Sense-impressions received from the external world, that 
enables the Infant to effect that marvellous combination of visual 
and tactile perceptions, which guides the whole subsequent inter- 
pretation of its phenomena (§ 167). When an attractive object is 
presented to it, which it grasps in its little hands, carries to its lips, 
and holds at different distances, earnestly gazing at it all the 
while, it is learning a most valuable lesson ; and the judicious 
Mother or Nurse will not interrupt this process, but will allow the 
infant to go on with its exam in ati on of the object as long as it is so 
disposed. — During the earlier ^age of Childhood, it is mainly the 
attractiveness which the changes going on in the world around 
have for the observing faculties, which leads to the employment of 
them in connection ^^ ith Ideational activity ; the child wanting to 
know the meaning of what it sees, breaking open its toys to find 
out what makes them move, and asking the " why " of everything 
that excites its curiosity. In this stage, it is of great importance 
that the child should be led to limit his enquiries to some oa<i 



1 34 0/ A ttentioii. 



object, until he has made himself acquainted with all that he can 
learn of its characters ; and here a judiciously- devised system of 
*' object lessons " answers the double purpose of communicating 
information and of cultivating the habit of fixity of the attentioti, 
which, at first purely automatic^ gradually comes to be under (he 
control of the Ego. 

120. So soon, however, as the work of systematic instruction com- 
mences, other influences come into play. It is the aim of the 
Teacher to fix the attention of the Pupil upon objects which may 
have in themselves little or no attraction for it ; and in this stage, 
the direct operation of motives becomes very apparent. The 
" unconscious influence " which the Parent or Nurse has acquired 
by Habit (§ 290), the desire of approbation or reward, or the fear of 
punishment, first call forth the effort which is required to keep the 
Attention steadily fixed, even for a short time, upon some un- 
attractive object, and to resist the solicitations of a new toy or a 
game of play. And in this early stage, all experience shows the 
advantage of moderating this effort, by giving to the object to 
wiiichthe Attention is to be directed, such attractiveness as it may 
be capable of, and by not requiring the attention to be too long 
sustained. Thus a picture-alphabet, with jingling rhymes, will 
often do what a simpler and severei' method of " teaching the child 
its letters " fails to accomplish ; and the " multiplication table " is 
much" sooner acquired by being put into rhyme and sung in the 
march of an Infant-school, than when presented in the repulsive 
nakedness of 2 x 2 = 4. Those " strong-minded " Teachers who 
object to these modes of "making things pleasant," as an un- 
worthy and undesirable " weakness," are ignorant that in this stage 
of the child-mind, the Will — that is, the power of se//-control — ii 
weak \ and that the primary object of Education is to encourage 
and strengthen, not to repress, that power. Great mistakes are 
often made by Parents and Teachers, who, being ignorant of this 
fundamental fact of child-nature, treat as wilfvlness what is 



Education of Attention, 135 

m reality just the contrary of Will-fullness; being the direct 
Lesult of the want of Volitional control over the automatic activity 
of the Brain. To punish a child for the want of obedience which 
it has not the power to render, is to inflict an injury which may 
almost be said to be irreparable. For nothing tends so much 
to prevent the healthful development of the Moral Sense, as the 
infliction of punishment which the child feels to be unjust; and 
nothing retards the acquirement of the power of directing the 
Intellectual processes, so much as the Emotional disturbance which 
the feeling of injustice provokes. Hence the determination often 
expressed to " break the will " of an obstinate child by punish- 
ment, IS almost certain to strengthen these reactionary influences. 
Many a child is put into " durance vile " for not learning " the 
little busy bee," who simply cannot give its small mind to the task, 
whilst disturbed by stern commands and threats of yet severer 
punishment for a disobedience it cannot help ; when a suggestioyi 
kindly and skilfully adapted to its automatic nature, by directing 
the turbid current of thought and feeling into a smoother channel, 
and guiding the activity which it does not attempt to oppose^ shall 
bring about the desired result, to the surprise alike of the baffled 
teacher, the passionate pupil, and the perplexed bystanders. 

121. The habit of Attention, at first purely automatic, gradually 
becomes, by judicious training, in great degree amenable to the 
Will of the Teacher ; who encourages it by the suggestion of 
appropriate motives, whilst taking care not to overstrain the 
child's mind by too long dwelling upon one object. Even at a 
very early period, there will be found marked ditFerences among 
individuals, as to their power of sustained attention : some being 
distracted by every passing occurrence ; whikt others have not 
much difiiculty in keeping their minds fixed upon an object, for a 
Bufiicient length of time to enable them to learn all tiiat the 
exercise of their senses can teach them ; while with others, again, 
the ditliculty lies in the transference of their attention from one 



136 Of Attention, 



object to another, so that, when the Teacher thinks that the 
Pnpirs mind is being exercised on B, he is still "ruminating" 
upon A. And thus many children require special modifications 
of this disciplinary process ; the " bird-witted " being encouraged 
to fix their attention, whilst those in whom the opposite tendency 
predominates should be exercised in mobilizing it. These opposite 
tendencies are noticeable in after life, and give a marked direction 
to the Intellectual character. Many a " dull " boy is supposed to 
be stupid, when he is simply introspective ; his attention being 
given rather to the ideas which are passing through his mind, 
than to what is going on around him. On the other hand, many 
a " quick-witted " boy gets a reputation for cleverness which he 
does not deserve ; his mind being keenly alive to all that is 
passing outside, so that he rapidly takes-in new impressions, but 
loses their traces as quickly, one set of impressions superseding 
another before any have had time to fix themselves. 

122. As the power of determinately fixing the Attention gains 
strength, only requiring adequate motives for its exercise, the 
influence of a system of discipline by which each individual feels 
himself borne along as if by a Fate, still more that of an Instructor 
possessing a strong Will guided by sound judgment (especially when 
united with qualities that attract the affection, as well as command 
the respect, of the pupil, § 290, iii.), greatly aid him in learning 
to use that power. As Archbishop Manning has truly said {Contem- 
porary Review, Feb. 1871), " During the earlier period of our lives, 
the potentiality of our intellectual and moral nature is elicited 

and educed by the Will of others Our ' plagiosua 

Orbilius ' did for our brain in boyhood, what our developed "Will, 
when we could wield the ferule, did for it in after life." With the 
general progress of Mental development, the direction of the 
Attention to ideas rather than to sense-impressions, which was at 
first difficult, becomes more and more easy ; its continuous fixation 
upon one subject becomes so completely habitual, that it is often 



Volitional and A zctomatic A ttention, 137 

less easy to break the continuity than to sustain it ; and the time 
at last arrives, when the direction of that Attention is given by tha 
individual's oivn Will, instead of by the will of another. 

123. It will serve to help us in the study of the manner in 
which volitional Attention operates in the higher spheres of 
Thought and Emotion, if we first study its action in the reception 
of Sense-impressions. — When we wish to make ourselves thoroughly 
acquainted with a Landscape or a Picture, we intentionally direct 
the axes of our eyes to each part of it successively, and study 
that part in its details until we have formed a composite concep- 
tion of the whole. Whilst we do this, the determinate fixation of 
the Attention upon any one part weakens the impression made 
by all the rest; so that of what lies within the Visual range 
at any one moment, nothing is distinctly seen, except the limited 
spot at which we are fixedly looking. Again, the practised 
Microscopist, whilst applying one of his eyes to his instrument, 
and determinately giving his whole Attention to the visual picture 
he receives through it, can keep his other eye open, without 
being in the least disturbed by the picture of the objects on the 
table which must be formed upon its retina, but which he does not 
see, unless their brightness should make him perceive them. — 
So in the act of listening, we are not only distinctly conscious of 
sounds so faint that they w^ould not excite our notice but for 1 he 
volitional direction of the Attention; but we can single cut 
these from the midst of others by a determined and sustained 
efibrt, which may even make us quite unconscious of the rest, so 
long as that effort is kept up. Thus, a person with a practised 
" musical ear" (as it is commonly but erroneousl}^ termed, it being 
not the ear, but the hrain^ which exerts this power), whilst listenino' 
to a piece of music played by a large orchestra, can single out any 
one part in the harmony, and follow it through all its mazes; 
or can distinguish the sound of the weakest instrument in the 
whole band, and follow its strain through the whole performance 



13^ Of Attention, 



And am experienced Conductor will not only distingaish when 
Borne instrumentalist is playing out of tune, but will at once single 
ou t the offender from the midst of a numerous band. 

1 24. The contrast between the volitional and the automatic states 
of Attention is particularly well shown in the effects of "painful 
impressions on the Nervous system. It is well known that sucJi 
impressions as would ordinarily produce severe pain, may for a 
time be completely unfelt, through the exclusive direction of the 
Attention elsewhere ; and this direction may either depend (a) 
upon the determination of the Ego, or (6) upon the attractiveness of 
the object, or (c, d, e,) on the combination of both. 

a. Thus, before the introduction of Chloroform, patients sometimes 
went through severe operations without giving any sign of pain, 
and afterwards declared that they felt none; having concentrated 
their thoughts, by a powerful effort of abstraction, on some subject 
which held them engaged throughout. 

h. On the other hand, many a Martyr has suffered at the stake 
with a calm serenity that he declared himself to have no difficulty 
in maintaining ; his entranced attention being so engrossed by the 
beatific visions which presented themselves to his enraptured gaze, 
that the burning of his body gave him no pain whatever. 

c. Some of Eobert Hall's most eloquent discourses were poured 
forth whilst he was suffering under a bodily disorder which caused 
him to roll in agony on the floor when he descended from the pulpit ; 
yet he was entirely unconscious of the irritation of his nerves by the 
calculus which shot forth its jagged points through the whole 
substance of his kidney, so long as his soul continued to be " pos- 
sessed " by the great subjects on which a powerful effort of hia Will 
originally fixed it. 

d. The Writer has himself frequently begun a lecture, whilst suffer- 
ing neuralgic pain so severe as to make him apprehend that he wou?.d 
tind it impossible to proceed ; yet no sooner has he, by a determined 
effort, fairly launched himself into the stream of thought, than ha 
has found himself continuously borne along without the least dis- 
traction, until the end has come, and the attention has been released; 
when the pain has recurred with a force that has over-mastered all 



Effects of L hnitation of A ttention, 1 3 9 

resistance, making him wonder how he could have ever ceased to 
feel it. 

e. A similar experience in the case of Sir Walter Scott is thug 
recorded by his biographer: — "John Ballantyne (whom Scott, 
while suffering under a prolonged and painful illness, employed :ia 
his amanuensis) told me that though Scott often turned himself on 
his pillow with a groan of torment, he usually continued the sentence 
in the same breath. But when dialogue of peculiar animation was 
in progress, spirit seemed to triumph altogether over matter, — he 
arose from, his couch, and walked up and down the roomi, raising 
and lowering his voice, and as it were acting the parts. It was in 
this fashion that Scott produced the far greater portion of the 
Bride of Lammermoor, — the whole of the Legend of Montrose,^ 
and almost the whole of Ivanhoe." — [Lockliart^s Life of Scott j 
chap, xliv.) See also § 352 a, for a curious sequel to the foregoing. 

125. These facts throw considerable light upon a question which 
will hereafter come to be considered, whether Cerebral changes by 
which Intellectual results are evolved may not go on without our 
consciousness (§ 417). For there are Metaphysicians who fully admit 
the automatic nature of the operations referred to, but at the same 
time assert that, as they are truly Mental^ we cannot be really 
unconscious of them, but merely do not remember them, in conse- 
quence either of the occupation of our attention by another train 
of thought, or of the severance of the connection between our 
sleeping and our waking consciousness. But this assertion does 
not constitute proof. In the case of the Physical impressions 
that produce the sense of pain, we have ample evidence that tliey 
mttst have been made; and the only question is as to their 
having been felt. "Did Robert Hall, for example, renlljfeel the 
pain which he declared that he did not feel "i " If it be replied 
that he did, but that he did not remember it, it may be further 
inquired, "What is the evidence of his having felt it?' Ilis 
consciousness and memory said that he did not; and what higher 
evidence is attainable ? No doubt, if his attention had been for a 



140 Of Attention, 



moment withdrawn from the subject of his discourse, the pointed 
calculus in his kidney would have made its presence most distress- 
ingly perceptible ; but there is no more evidence that pain waa 
zonacioudy felt, though not remembered, w^hilst he w^as preaching, 
than that he felt it when a large dose of opium procured for him 
the refreshment of sound sleep. When Damiens, worn out by hia 
protracted sufferings, slept on the rack (§ 471), enjoying a remis- 
sion of suffering until awoke by some new and more exquisite 
torture, did he feel h:s pain 1 It would be a mere gratuitous 
assumption to say that he must have felt it, because the organic 
condition was present that would make him feel it if he were 
awake ; since the presence of this organic condition goes for 
nothing, unless there be a receptive condition on the part of the 
Sensorium. And there seems just as much evidence that this 
receptivity may be entirely suspended quoad any one set of impres- 
sions (whether internal or external) by the complete engrossment of 
the attention upon another, as that it may be suspended altogether 
in Sleep or Coma (see § 488). 

126. Now, just as the Organic impressions which make themselve? 
felt in pain, when the sensorium is receptive of them, may exist 
without consciousness if the sensorium be otherwise engaged, so (it 
appears to the Writer) may it be affirmed — and on precisely the 
same evidence — that the Organic changes which are concerned in 
the automatic production of Thought, and of which we become 
conscious as ideas when the Sensorium takes cognizance of them, 
n.ay go on without consciousness if the sensorium be otherwise 
engaged. The affirmation that such automatic changes cannot 
take plac{) without the consciousness of them, is, as Sir William 
Hamilti-'U has pointed out (§ 418), a mere petitio principii ; and 
may be regarded as a " survival" of those older notions of the 
essential independence of Mind and Body, which a truly philoso- 
phical Psychology can no longer accept as consistent with thfl 
fundamental facts of our composite nature. 



Effects of Limitation of Attention. 141 

127. It is to the habitual direction of the Attention to some 
particular kind of Sense-impressions, that we are to attribute the 
increase in discriminative power ^ which is specially remarkable in 
the case of such as suffer under deprivation of other Senses. Tliia 
is most frequently seen in the case of the Touch, which may be 
brought by practice to such wonderful acuteness, that some blind 
persons can read from raised print not much larger than that of an 
ordinary folio Bible, by merely passing the point of the finger along 
the lines; whilst by attending to minute differences which ordinarily 
pass entirely unnoticed, they can not only distinguish persons among 
whom they are living, but can also recognize such as have not 
been near them for months or even years previously, by the mere 
contact of their hands. (Thus Laura Bridgeman unhesitatingly 
recognized the Writer's brother, after the lapse of a year from his 
previous interview with her, by the " feel " of his hand.) It is well 
known that an extraordinary acuteness of Touch is possessed by 
the weavers of the finest of those textile fabrics for which India is 
celebrated j and as this manufacture, like others, is handed down 
in the same families, it does not seem improbable that a 
special aptitude for it, originally acquired by the experience of the 
individual, may be transmitted hereditarily with progressive im- 
provement. — The like improvement is also occasionally noticed in 
regard to the Smell, which may acquire an acuteness rivalling that 
of the lower animals ; and this not only in the blind, but among 
races of Men whose existence depends upon such discriminative 
p jwer. Thus we are told by Humboldt that the Peruvian Indiana 
in the darkest night can not merely perceive through their scent 
the approach of a stranger whilst yet far distant, but can say 
whether he is an Indian, European, or Negro. And it is said that 
the Arabs of the Sahara can recognise the smell of a fire thirty or 
forty miles distant. — In the same manner, the sense of Taste may 
be trained to the recognition of differences which would ordinarily 
pass unnoticed ; of which we have an example in the Wine-tastei 



142 Of Attention, 



who can tell the vineyard by which any particular choice wine was 
yielded, and the year of the vintage which produced it ; a not less 
striking case beingj furnished by the Tea- taster, the delicacy of 
whose sense is said to be seldom preserved for more than a few 
yearH. — The familiar case of the Seaman who makes out the dis 
tiuct " loom of the land," where a landsman can discern nothing but 
an indefinite haze above the horizon-Hne, illustrates the improve- 
ment in the Visual sense of individuals, which arises from the 
habitual direction of the Attention to a particular class of impres- 
sions. But the possession of this faculty, also, seems occasionally 
to be an attribute of Race ; the power of descrying objects at vast 
distances being (it is asserted) hereditarily possessed by the 
Mongols of Northern Asia and the Hottentots of Southern Africa, 
both of which races habitually dwell on vast plains, that seem to 
stretch without limit in every direction. As no dweller among 
them seems able to acquire the same visual power by any amount 
of individual experience, and as even half-breeds do not possess 
the aptitude in a degree by any means equal to that which charac- 
terizes the men of pure race, it seems probable that, as in the cases 
already referred to, the power acquired by habitual Attention in 
the first instance has become fixedly hereditary, improving with 
habitual use in successive generations. 

128. Whilst, however, we give full credit to the cumulative effect of 
Hereditary transmission, in cases in which the same habit is kept 
up by force of circumstances through successive generations, there 
is adequate evidence that an extraordinary increase in the dis- 
criminative power of individuals may be brought about by the con- 
cent^ation of the Attention upon the Sensorial impression received 
through the organ of sense, rather than upon an improvement 
produced by practice in the organ itself. For the same exaltation 
often shows itself without any practice at all, in that curious form 
of Somnambulism (natural or induced), in which the Attention 
is entirely engrossed by the particular thought or feeling which 



Effects of Limitation of Attention. .143 

may be before the consciousness at the moment (§§ 494, 498). 
And it is not a little remarkable that this exaltation should show 
itself especially in the muscular sense, to the indications of which 
we ordinarily give very little heed. Thus, the Writer has re- 
peatedly seen Hypnotized patients write with the most perfect 
regularity, when an opaque screen* was interposed between their 
eyes and the paper ; the lines being equidistant and parallel, and 
the words at a regular distance from each other. He has seen, 
too, an algebraical problem thus worked out, with a neatness 
which could not have been exceeded in the waking state. — But 
the most curious proof of the exaltation of this Muscular sense, 
which conveys to the mind of the Somnambule that exact appre- 
ciation of distance and relative position for which we ordinarily 
trust to our Vision (§ 192), is derived from the manner in which 
the writer will sometimes cany back his pen or pencil to dot an i 
or cross a t, or to make a correction in a letter or word. Mr. Braid 
had one patient (in whom the sense of Smell also was remarkably 
exalted, § 498), who could thus go back and correct with accuracy 
the writing on a whole page of note-paper ; but if the paper was 
moved from the position it had previously occupied on the table, 
all the corrections were on the wrong points of the paper as 
regarded the then place of the writing, though on the right points 
as regarded its previous place. Sometimes, however, he took a 
fresh departure (to use a nautical phrase) from the upper left- 
hand corner of the paper ; and all his corrections were then made 
in their right position, notwithstanding the displacement of the 
paper. " This," says Mr. Braid, " I once saw him do, even to the 
double-dotting a vowel in a German word at the bottom of the 

* This is a far more satisfactory test than bandaging the eyes. It ii impossible 
t® see through a slate, a music book, or a piece of pasteboard ; but those who 
have carefully experimented on the asserted clairvoyance of Me-jsmerized 
"subjects," know well that the best-arranged bandages maybe shifted, by the 
working of the muscles of ^ihe face, sufficiently to i ermit the use of the eyes in 
certain directions. 

14 



144 Of Atteniioii, 



page, a feat which greatly astonished his German master, who wa« 
present at the time." 

129. The effects of Attention in either augmenting or diminish- 
ing the intensity of Sensations, are manifested, not only in rega-»-d 
to those which are excited by external Impressions, but also in 
respect to those which originate within the body. Every one is aware 
how difficult it is to remain perfectly at rest, especially when ther(^ 
is a particular motive for doing so, and when the attention is strongly 
directed to the object. This is experienced whilst a Photographic 
likeness is being taken, even when the position is chosen by the 
individual, and a support is adapted to assist him in retaining it ; 
and it is still more strongly felt by the performers in " Tableaux 
Vivans," who cannot keep up the effort for more than three or 
four minutes. — On the other hand, when the Attention is strongly 
directed to an entirely different object (as, for example, in 
listening to an eloquent sermon or an interesting lecture), the 
body may remain perfectly motionless for a much longer 
period, the Sense-impressions which would otherwiss have 
induced the individual to change his position, not being felt ; 
while no sooner is the discourse ended, than a simultaneous 
movement of the whole audience takes place, every one then 
becoming conscious of some discomfort, which he seeks to 
relieve. This is especially the case in regard to the Respira- 
tory sense : for it may generally be observed that the usual 
reflex movements do not suffice for the perfect aeration of 
the blood, and that a more prolonged inspiration, prompted by 
an uneasy feeling, takes place at intervals; but under si.ch 
circumstances as those just alluded to, this feeling is not ex- 
perienced until the Attention ceases to be engaged by a more 
powerful stimulus, and then it manifests itself by the deep 
inspirations which accompany, in almost every individual, the 
general movement of the body. — Sensations may even be called 
into existence, as Sir H. Holland has pointed out, by the deter- 



Effects of Localized A ttention. 1 45 

minate direction of the Attention to particular parts of the 
body : 

a. ' ' The Attention by an effort of Will concentrated on the sen«o- 
rinm, creates certain vague feelings of tension and uneasineoe, 
caused possibly by some change in the circulation of the part; 
though it may be an effect, however dijEcult to conceive, on 
the nervous system itself. Persistence in this effort, which is 
seldom indeed possible beyond a short time without confusion, pro- 
duces results of much more complex nature, and scarcely to be defined 
by any common terms of language." "Stimulated attention will 
frequently give a local sense of arterial pulsation where not previously 
felt, and create or augment those singing and rushing noises in the 
ears, which probably depend on the circulation through the capillary 
vessels." *' A similar concentration of consciousness on the region 
of the stomach, creates in this part a sense of weight, oppression, or 
other less definite uneasiness ; and, when the stomach is full, appears 
greatly to disturb the due digestion of the food." The state and 
action of the bladder and the bowels are much influenced by the 
same cause. A peculiar sense of weight and restlessness approaching 
to cramp, is felt in a limb to which the attention is particularly 
directed. So, again, if the attention be steadily directed to almost 
any part of the surface of the body, some feeling of itching, creeping, 
or tickling will soon be experienced. — [Chapters on Mental Physiology ^ 
pp. 18—24.) 

Evidence will hereafter be adduced, that this direction of the 
Attention changes the local action of the part ; so that, if 
habitually maintained, it may produce important moditcations in 
its Nutrition. In this way it often happens that a real malady 
supervenes upon the fancied ailments of those, in whom the want 
of healthful occupation for the mind leaves it free to dwell upou 
its own Sensations ; whilst, on the other hand, the strong exp€> 
tation of benefit from a particular mode of treatment, will often 
cure diseases that involve serious organic change (Chap. XIX.). 
Hence it seems probable that in the cases just cited, as in others 
to be presently noticed (§ 140), the Sensations really originatQ 



1 46 Of A ttention. 



in an impression on the nerves of the part to which they are 
referred. 

130. The difference between volitional and automatic Attention, 
again, is well shown by the difference between an observant and 
an unobservant person ; still more by the phenomena of that 
state which is strangely misnamed " absence of mind." One man is 
designated as observant, whose Will prevents his attention from 
beinoj so far enchained by the attractiveness of any one object, 
whether a Sense-perception or an internal train of Thought, as to 
interfere with the reception of other impressions ; whilst another is 
spoken of as unobservant, who, by allowing his attention to 
remain engrossed by one object, whether a Sense-perception or a 
train of Thought, is kept from bestowing a legitimate share of it 
upon the other impressions which he receives through either his 
external or his internal senses. The state of Abstraction is only 
an intensified condition of this last form of exclusive ww-volitional 
attention (§ 445). 

131. The effect of Attention in the limitation and intensification 
of our external sense-impressions, is exerted also upon those Cerebral 
operations of which we become conscious as states of Thought and 
Emotion, and which may be conveniently distinguished as internal 
sense impressions. For these, like the preceding, may excite no 
more than a passive cognizance of them ; whilst, on the other hand, 
our attention may be actively/ directed to them. And the result of 
this direction is similar: for the Mental state, of whatever nature it 
may be, upon which the attention is fixed, becomes intensified to 
such a degree, as to exclude for the time the cognizance of othier 
impressions ; whilst it acquires a special power of suggesting otliei 
Mental states. — This direction of the attention to states of Cerebral 
activity, may, like its direction to impressions received through the 
organs of Sense, be either automatic or volitional. When it is 
automatic, the Mind is engrossed for the time by some Idea or 
Emotion, in virtue of the intensity with which it has been called 



Regulation of Mental States, 147 



up, or of the peculiar hold which it has upon our nature ; and it 
may remain thus fixed, until this Mental state shall have given-rise 
to some other, or shall have expended its force in bodily action, or 
until the attention has been determinately detached from it by an 
exertion of the Will. But volitional Attention consists in the 
fixatioQ of the Mental araze. by a purposive effort^ upon some single 
btate, or on some class of Ideas or Feelings, which the Ego desires 
to make the special object of his contemplation; and it is by means 
of this selecting power, and of the tendency of the Mental state thus 
intensified to call-forth other states with which it has pre-formed 
links of association, that the Will acquires that directing power over 
the current of Thought and Feeling, which characterizes the fully 
developed Man (§§ 25-28). — -Thus it is in the degree of Attention 
which -we bestow upon certain classes of Ideas presented to us by 
suggestion, that our power of determinately u&ing our Minds in 
any particular mode consists ; and hence we see the fundamen- 
tal importance of early learning to fix our attention, and to resist 
all influences which would tend to distract it. And this is essen- 
tial, not merely to the advantageous employment of our Intellec- 
tual powers in the acquirement of Knowledge, but also to the due 
regulation of our Emotional nature : for it is by fixing the Atten- 
tion upon those states of feeling which we desire to intensify, 
and, conversely, by withdrawing it from those we desire to repress 
(which is most easily effected by choosing &ome other object that 
exercises a healthful attraction for us), that we can encourage 
the growth of what we recognize as worthy, and can keep in 
check what we know to be wrong or undesirable. — This part of tiio 
BJbject will be more fully treated hereafter (Chaps. VI — IX). 



CHAPTER lY. 

OF SENSATION. 

132. Sensation is fcliat primary change in the condition of the 
conscious Ego* which results from some change in the Non-ego or 
External World, — this last term including the Bodily organism 
itself ; for it is through the instrumentality of a certain part of 
the Nervous apparatus, that the change in the Non-ego is enabled 
to affect the Ego. A physical impression made upon an afferent 
nerve, is propagated by it to its Ganglionic centre forming part of 
the Sensorium ; and according to the particular centre which is 
thus affected, will be the nature of the Sensation produced. Thus 
impressions on the Olfactive, Optic, or Auditory nerves excite 
sensations of Smell, Sight, or Hearing, in virtue of their trans- 
mission to the Olfactive, Optic, or Auditory ganglia respectively. 
This is proved by the fact that similar Impressions will produce 
entirely diverse Sensations, according as they are made on one or 
another of the nerves of Sense. Electric stimulation does this 
most effectively, producing in each Sensory nerve the change which 
is necessary to call forth the particular affection of the Conscious- 
ness to which it ministers ; so that, by proper management, the 
Ego may be made conscious at the same time of flashes of light, of 
distinct sounds, of a phosphoric odour, of a peculiar taste, and of a 
fncjling of pricking, all excited by the same stimulus, the effects of 
9Phich are modified by the respective peculiarities of the instni' 

* Some Physiologists, it is true, have spoken of Sensation withoiut Conscious- 
Kfss : but it seems very desirable, for the sake of clearness and accuracy, to limit 
the application of the word to the mental change ; especially since the term 
* ' impression " serves to designate that change in the state of the Nervous 
system, which is its immediate antecedent. 



special Sensations. — Localization of Sensation, 149 

ments through which it operates. So pressure, which produces 
through the nerves of common Sensation the feeling of resistance, 
is well Imown to occasion, when exerted on the Eye, the sensation 
of light and colours ; and when made with some violence on the 
Ear, to produce a ringing sound. It is not so easy to excite sensar- 
tions of Taste and Smell by mechanical irritation ; and yet, as waa 
shown by Dr. Baly, a sharp light tap on the papillae of the tongue 
excites a Taste which is sometimes acid, sometimes saline. The 
sense of nausea may be easily produced, as is familiarly known, by 
mechanical irritation of the fauces. — But although there are some 
stimuli which can produce sensory impressions on all the nerves of 
Sense, those to which any one is specially fitted to respond, produce 
little or no efi'ect upon the rest. Thus the Ear cannot distinguish 
the slightest difierence between a luminous and a dark object. A 
tuning-fork, which, when laid upon the Ear whilst vibrating, pro- 
duces a distinct musical tone, excites no other sensation when 
placed upon the Eye, than a slight jarring feeling, which is a modi- 
fication of common not of visual sensation. The most delicate 
Touch cannot distinguish a substance which is sweet to the Taste, 
from one which is bitter ; nor can the Taste (if the communication 
between the mouth and the nose be cut-off) perceive anything 
peculiar in the most strongly odorous bodies. — It may hence 
be inferred that no nerve of special Sense can take-on the function 
of another, any more than it can minister to common Sensation 
(§ 38). 

133. The first stage in the Mental operation excited by a Sense- 
impression, is the localization of the Sensation ; and this is clearly 
an automatic action, in regard to which it is impossible to say with 
certainty whether it is primary or secondary, a congenital Intuition, 
or an acquired Instinct. The latter view is perhaps the more pro 
bal)le ; for though the young Infant cries when it feels pain, it does 
not show by any sign that it refers that pain "o any particular 
seat ; and we ourselves often wake out of sleep with a feeling of 



150 Of Seiisation, 



discomfort or distress, which we are not at first sufficiently 
wide-awake to refer to a local origin. Yet the fully-develc»ped 
Consciousness unhesitatingly refers Sense-impressions to the 
origins of the nerves that convey them to the Sensorium ; those of 
any special Sense to the particular organ of that sense, and those 
of common Sensation to the part in which the afferent nerve- 
trunks have their roots. There is, as Professor Huxley has phrased 
it, " an extradition of that consciousness which has its seat in the 
Brain, to a definite point of the body ; which takes place without 
our volition, and may give rise to ideas which are contrary to 
fact." Thus after amputations, the patients are for some time 
affected with sensations (probably excited by irritation at the cut 
ends of the nerves), which they refer to the fingers or toes of the 
lost limbs ; and flashes of light are often experienced when the Eye 
has been completely extirpated, as also when its structure has been 
destroyed by disease. The effects of the Taliacotian operation 
afford a curiously-illustrative example of this principle ; for imtil 
the flap of skin from which the new nose is formed, obtains vascular 
and nervous connections in its changed situation, the sensation 
produced by touching it is referred to the forehead. 

134. There are cases, however, in which Sensations are referred 
to' parts quite remote from those on which the impressions are 
made that give rise to them. Thus, disease of the hip-joint is often 
first indicated by pain in the knee ; various disorders of the liver 
occasion pain under the left scapula ; attention is often drawn to 
disease of the heart by shooting pains along the arms ; the sense 
of nausea is more commonly excited by conditions of the stomach, 
than by the direct contact of the nauseating substance with the 
tongue or fauces ; the sudden introduction of ice into the stomach 
will cause intense pain in the supra-orbital region ; and the same 
pain is frequently occasioned by the presence of acid in the 
stomach, and may be very quickly relieved by its neutralization 
with an alkali. It will be seen that in most of these cases, it la 



Local Diminution of Sensibility. 151 

Impossible to refer the sensations to any direct nervous connection 
with the parts on which the impressions are made ; and they can 
scarcely be otherwise accounted-for, than by supposing that these 
impressions produce Sensorial changes, which are referred to other 
parts in virtue of some central track of communication with them, 
analogous to that through which reflex movements are excited. 
There are circumstances, indeed, which seem to render it not im- 
probable, that just as the impression brought by the afferent 
nerves to the central organs, calls forth a reflex Motion by exciting 
the nerve-force of a motor nerve, it may produce a reflex Sensa- 
tion by a like excitation of a sensory nerve. Certain it is, that, 
after a long continuance of some of these reflex sensations, 
the organs to which they are referred often themselves become 
diseased, although previously quite healthy ; this perversion of 
their normal action being not improbably due to that habitual 
direction of the Attention to the part, which is prompted by the 
habitual Sensation (§ 129). 

135. It has already been pointed out (§ 41) that, for the pro- 
duction of Sensations, each part of the Nervous apparatus must be 
in a state of activity, which can only be maintained by the con- 
stant Circulation of blood ; — this being specially needed at what 
may be considered the origins of the Sensory nerves in the general 
surface of the Skin and in the organs of special Sense, and at 
their terminations in the Ganglionic centres. An enfeeblement of 
the circulation where impressions are first received, diminishes 
their strength, as we see in the numbness produced by an obstruc- 
tion to the flow of blood through the main artery of a limb ; and 
a like enfeeblement of the circulation in the Ganglionic centre 
through the instrumentality of which we are rendered conscious of 
the physical impression, produces a corresponding torpor of Sensi- 
bility. The local action of Cold, in like manner, prO' luces numb- 
aess, not only by retarding the blood-circulation, but also (it would 
appear) by directly lowering the conducting power of the iNerve 



r 5 2 Of Sensation. 



itself; for if cold be applied to an afferent nerve-trunk in Us course^ 
complete insensibility is produced in all the parts from which it 
receives fibres. So, local ancesthesm or want of sensibihty may be 
produced by the action of Ether or Chloroform on the nerves of 
the part. — On the other hand, in that first stage of local Inflam- 
ination in which the capillary circulation is unduly active, and the 
heat of the part is augmented, there is an unusual susceptibility, 
or " tenderness," which renders ordinary impressions productive of 
pain. 

136. The like diminution or exaltation of Sensibility may arise 
from states of the Sensorium. Thus in Sleep there is a want of 
receptivity for ordinary Sense-impressions ; though extraordinary 
impressions will make themselves felt, recalling the sleeper to 
consciousness. In the profound Coma of apoplexy or of narco- 
tism, on the other hand, complete suspension of Sensorial activity 
is produced, in the one case by continued pressure within the 
skull (which probably acts by disturbing the circulation), in the 
other by the direct action of the poison on the nerve-sub- 
stance; whilst the torpor which is produced by continued exposure 
to severe Cold, is attributable to the congestion of the veins of the 
brain, which results from the contraction called-forth by the 
cold in the vessels of the general surface of the body. On the 
other hand, there are states of general exaltation of Sensibility, 
which obviously depend upon affections of the Sensorial centres. 
Thus the first stage of Inflammation of the Brain is characterized 
by an extreme susceptibility of this kind ; the most ordinary 
impressions of light, sound, &c., giving rise to sensations of 
unbearable violence. The presence of certain poisons, as lead, in 
the blood, sometimes induces the condition termed hypercestkeda, or 
excessive sensibility ; though it more commonly induces local 
ancesthesia, or want of sensibility. — In all these cases it is perfectly 
clear to the Physiologist, that the degree in which Sensations are 
felt^ entirely depends upon the condition of the Mechanism by 



General Exaltation of Sensibility, 153 

the instrumentality of which Physical Impressions are received 
and are translated into states of Consciousness. 

137. It is no less certain, however, that the intensity of 
Sensations is greatly affected by the degree in which the recipient 
Mind is directed towards them; and this may operate in regard 
either to Sensory impressions generally, or to those of som« 
particular class. Of the former we have a characteristic example 
in what is known as the hysterical condition ; in which the 
patient's Attention is so fixed upon her own bodily state, that the 
most trivial impressions are magnified into severe pains ; while 
there is often such an extraordinary acuteness to sounds, that she 
overhears a conversation carried-on in an undertone in an adjoining 
room, or (as in a case known to the Writer) in a room on the second 
floor beneath. There is here, doubtless, a peculiar Physical 
susceptibility to Nervous impressions, which is to a certain degree 
remediable by medical treatment ; but much depends upon the 
diversion of the patient's Attention from her own fancied ailments ; 
and we here see the importance of the seZ/*-determining power of 
the Will, which, if duly exercised, can substitute a healthful direc- 
tion of the Mental activity, for the morbid imaginings to which the 
patient has previously yielded herself.* — The transition is easy 
from the cases in which there is an exaggeration of real Sensations, 
to those in which there is an actual production of sensations 
not originating in any external impressions^ by an expectation 
generated in the Mind itself (§ 147). 

138. The vividness of Sensations usually depends rather on the 
legree of fJiange which they produce in the system, than on 

* This coi'dition is by no means peculiar to Females ; although, from the 
greater impressibility of the Nervous system, and the lower development of 
Volitional power, by which the Sex is ordinarily characterized, it is more conamon 
among them than in males. It is often fostered, from a very early date, by the 
habit in which injudicious Parents and Nurses indulge, of fixing the Child's 
attention on any little hurt or ache, instead of ivii/uirawing it by the counter' 
attraction of some object of interest. (See § 269.) 



154 Of Sensation. 



the absolute amount of the impressing force ; and this is the case 
with regard alike to special and to ordinary sensations. Thus, 
our sensations of Heat and Cold are entirely governed by the 
previous condition of the parts affected; as is shown by the 
well-known experiment of putting one hand into hot water, the 
other into cold, and then transferring both into tepid water, which 
will seem cool to one hand, and warm to the other. Every one 
knows, too, how much more we are affected by a warm day at 
the commencement of summer, than by an equally hot day 
later in the season. The same is the case in regard to Light 
and Sound, Smell and Taste. A person going out of a totally 
dark room into one moderately bright, is for the time painfully 
impressed by the light, but soon becomes habituated to it ; whilst 
another, who enters it from a room brilliantly illuminated, will 
consider it dark and gloomy. Those who are constantly exposed 
to very loud noises, become almost unconscious of them, and are 
even undisturbed by them in illness ; and the medical student well 
knows that even the effluvia of the dissecting-room are not per- 
ceived, when the Sensorium has been habituated to impressions 
they produce : although an intermission of sufficient length would, 
in either instance, occasion a renewal of the first unpleasant feelings, 
when the individual is again subjected to the impression. — Thus 
there seems reason to believe that Sensorial changes of frequent 
occurrence, produce a modification in the nutrition of the Sen- 
sorium itself, yfhich grows-to them, as it were, just as the Nervoua 
system generally may be considered as growing-to "nervine 
fitimulants" habitually taken-in (§ 155); for not only would 
the production of such a modification be quite in accordance with 
the general phenomena of Nutrition,* but we can scarcely other- 

* We have a remarkable exe^ plification of this, in the tolerance which may bo 
gi-adually established in the system for various Poisons, especially for such as par- 
ticuJarly affect the Nervous substance, sucJ' as Opium or Alcohol. It seerna 
impossible tc explain this tolerance on any other hypothesis, than that of th» 



Subjective Sensations. 155 



vise explain the progressive formation of that connection between 
Sensorial changes and Motor actions, which gives rise to the 
"secondarily automatic" movements (§ 191). Hence it seema 
reasonable to attribute that diminution in the force of Sensatioua 
wliich is the ordinary consequence of their habitual recurrence, to 
the want of such a change in the condition of the Sensorium, as is 
needful to produce an impression on the Consciousness; the 
effects which they at first induced being no longer experienced in 
the same degTce, when the structure of that part has accommodated 
itself to them. — But the same principle does not apply to those 
impressions to which the attention is habitually directed ; for 
these lose none of their power of exciting Sensations by frequent 
repetition ; on the contrary, they are so much more readily re- 
cognized, that they affect the Consciousness under circumstances 
in which the Ego is insensible to much stronger impressions of 
other kinds (§ 480). 

139. Subjective Sensations. — The designation " subjective " is 
commonly given to all those Sensations which arise out of either 
bodily or mental states, whose existence is not consequent upon 
any " objective " or external change. But, strictly speaking, it 
should be limited to those which arise from the workings of the 
Ego's own Mind ; since those which are produced by Physical 
impressions made on the nerves within his Body, just as truly 
belong to the Non-ego^ as do those made by impressions operating 
from without. Thus, for example, when incipient Inflammation 
of a part produces the sense of Heat in it, exactly resembling that 
which would bo excited by the proximity of a heated body, it can 
scarcely be doubted that the Physical impression on the afferent 
nerves of the part, exciting Sensorial change, is the same in both 
cases: such a Sensation, therefore, is no more truly "subjective" 
in the one case than in the other, But when a " biologized " 

Alteration of the Nutrition of the tissue by repeated doses, so that no further 
ehange can be produced by the quantity originally taken. 



156 Of Sensation. 



subject is made to believe that a body he holds in his hands is 
unbearably hot, and throws it down accordingly (§ 458), the 
sensorial change is produced by the Mental suggestion ; the 
Sensation, which is only referred to the locality by the mental 
preconception, being the creation of the Ego himself. 

140. Of those so-called " subjective " Sensations which have 
their origin in local changes that produce impressions on the 
nerves of the parts to which they are referred, we have examples 
in the flashes of light which are symptomatic of disease of the 
Retina or of the Optic nerve ; and in the ringing in the ears, which, 
while sometimes due to a disordered condition affecting the 
nervous apparatus within the ears themselves, appears more 
frequently to arise from an affection of the Auditory nerve in its 
course by the pulsations of a neighbouring artery. And it is 
probable that the persistence of a bad taste or of an unpleasant 
odour, having no source outside the body, is often to be attri- 
buted to analogous local changes within it. — On the other 
hand, there is probably no kind of Sensation that may not be 
produced by physical conditions of the Sensorium, which have not 
been induced by impressions transmitted thither by the afferent 
nerves, but which arise from morbid changes, either in its own sub- 
stance, or in the blood which circulates through it. For subjective 
sensations are among the commonest indications of incipient 
Brain-disease ; and they are especially noticeable as results of the 
presence of poisons in the blood, whose action is specially exerted 
on the Cephalic nerve-centres. 

141. We have now to consider, however, that class of trulp 
"subjective" Sensations, of which the origin is to be looked-f.T, 
neither in local impressions on the nerves of the external senses, 
nor in abnormal affections of the Sensorium ; but in im]:)ressiong 
transmitted to the Sensorium by the *' nerves of the internal 
senses,^' which convey to it the results of changes taking place 
in that cortical layer of the Cerebrimi which we have seen roasoD 



Production of Sensations by Ideas. 1 5 7 

to regard as the instrument of the higher Psychical operations 
(§ 100). 

1 42. Every one is familiar with the fact that Sensations formerly 
experienced are reproduced in Dreaming, with a vividness and 
reality quite equal to that with which his consciousness wa.3 
originally impressed by the actual objects. And this not 
unfrequently happens also in the waking state ; in which we are 
able distinctly to trace-out the causation of this reproduction, in the 
suggestive action of pre-formed Ideational associations (§§ 101, 
103). Of these associative actions, it cannot be reasonably 
doubted that the Cerebrum is the instrument ; and the mechanism 
by which they occasion the reproduction of Sensations, has been 
already explained to be (according to the Writer's view) the trans- 
mission to the Sensorium, along the nerves of the internal senses, 
of an impression equivalent to that which it originally received 
through the nerves of the external senses (§§ 99 — 105). — But if 
Cerebral (ideational) states can reproduce Sensations, they can also 
produce them; and as this fact is of fundamental importance 
in our interpretation of a large class of phenomena to which 
attenti'm has been drawn of late years under the designations 
" Odylism," " Spiritualism," &c., it will be desirable to adduce the 
proofs of it in some detail. For nothing is more conunon than to 
hear the advocates of these doctrines appealing to " the evidence 
of their senses " as conclusive in regard to the actual occurrence 
of the phenomena which they believe themselves to have witnessed ; 
in utter ignorance of the fact that nothing is more fallacious than 
that evidence, when the Mind is previously "possessed" by an 
idea of what the Sense-impressions are to be. Of this we have an 
apposite illustration in the well-known exclamation of Dr. Pearson, 
** Bless me, how heavy it is," when he first poised upon his finger 
the globule of Potassium produced by the battery of Sir H. Davy \ 
his preconception of the coincidence between metallic lustre and 
high specific gravity, causing him to feel that as ponderous, 



1 5 8 0/ Sensation. 



which the unerring test of the balance determined to be lighter 
tlian water. The excitement of the peculiar sensation of 
tickling in a " ticklish " person, by a threatening movemei'it 
that suggests the idea, and of that of creeping or itching bj 
the mention of bed-infesting insects to those who are pecu- 
liariy liable to their attacks, are familiar instances of the same 
fact. 

143. In the two following cases related by Professor Bennett, 
the effect of the Idea was not limited to the production of the 
Sensations, but extended itself to the consequences which would 
have followed those sensations, if their supposed cause had been 
real : — 

a. *' A clergyman told me, that some time ago suspicions were 
entertained in his parish, of a woman who was supposed to have 
poisoned her newly-born infant. The coflBin was exhumed, and the 
Procurator-fiscal, who attended with the medical men to examine the 
body, declared that he already perceived the odour of decomposition, 
which made him feel faint, and in consequence he withdrew. But, 
on opening the coffin, it was found to be empty ; and it was after- 
wards ascertained that no child had been born, and consequently no 
murder com.mitted." 

&. The second case is yet more remarkable. * ' A butcher was brought 
into the shop of Mr. Macfarlan, the druggist, from the market-place 
opposite, labouring under a terrible accident. The man, on trying to 
hook-up a heavy piece of meat above his head, slipped, and the sharp 
hook penetrated his arm, so that he himself was suspended. On 
being examined, he was pale, almost pulseless, and expressed himself 
as suflfering acute agony. The arm could not be moved without 
causing excessive pain ; and in cutting-off the sleeve, he frequently 
cried out ; yet when the arm was exposed, it was found to be quite 
luiinjared, the hook having only traversed the sleeve of his coat." 
"^[The Mesmeric Mania of 1851.) 

No evidence could be stronger than that afforded by the almost 
pulseless condition of the subject of the second of these cases, as 
to the reality of the severe pain which he experienced ; and yet 



Production of Sensations by Ideas. 159 

this pain entirely arose from his Mental conviction that the hook 
had penetrated the flesh of his arm. 

144. Nearly thirty years ago, the scientific world was startled 
by the announcement made by Baron von Reichenbach (who ha'l 
previously attained considerable reputation as a chemist) of the 
discovery of " a new Imponderable," — a peculiar Force existing in 
nature and embracing the Universe, distinct from all known forces 
— to which he gave the name Odyle. This force could only be 
recognised by the efiects it produced on certain " sensitive sub- 
jects ; " who could see, it was averred, flames streaming from the 
poles of magnets, could smell odours issuing from them, and could 
feel sensations of warmth or coolness when magnets were drawn 
over any part of the surface of the body ; some of them being also 
similarly affected by crystals ; and one, in particular, by almost 
any substance whatever, so that she saw (in the dark) flames issuing 
from nails or hooks in a wall, or streaming from the finger-ends of 
human beings. Experienced Physicians, however, at once recog- 
nized in Baron Reichenbach's descriptions, the influence of the 
ideas with which these " sensitives " had become " possessed ;" the 
phenomena being only, under another form, the manifestations of 
a tendency with which they were previously familiar in Hyste- 
rical and Hypochondriacal patients. Hence there was to them 
nothing in the least surprising in the fact, that such persons, 
plax^ed in a perfectly dark room for two hours, could be brought to 
see a multitude of luminous phenomena, could hear varied sounds, 
could smell odours, and couli touch intangible things, quite inde- 
pendently of any " Odyle " whatever, by the mere suggestion of 
what they were to experience. And although Reichenbach him 
self considered that he had taken adequate precautions to exclude 
the conveyance of any suggestion of which his " sensitives " should 
be conscious, yet those who were familiar with the extraordinary re- 
ceptivity for Sense-impressions which is a special characteristic of 
Hysterical subjects (§ 137), could readily discern the modes in 
15 



1 6o Of Sensation. 

which such suggestions would reach the " sensitives," without any 
intention on the part of the operator. 

145. The very fact that no manifestation of this supposed Forcf 
could he obtained, except through the conscious Human being, ^ was 
quite sufficient to convince every philosophio investigator, that he 
had to do, not with a new Physical Force^ but with a peculiar 
phase of Psychical action, by no means unfamiliar to such as had 
previously studied the influence of the Mind upon the Body. 
From this point of view, Reichenbach's researches were accepted aa 
aa important contribution to Mental Physiology ; and this estimate 
of their character was entirely confirmed by the inquiries of Mr, 
Braid, of Manchester, who was early led to the adoption of it by 
the experience he had already gained in a parallel line of investiga- 
tion, the results of which had thrown great light on the pheno- 
mena of Mesmerism (Chaps. XIV, XV). For he found that whatever 
Sensations were producible by the agency of magnets, crystals, 
&c., the very same sensations occurred when the " subjects " 
believed that such agency was being employed, although nothing 
whatever was really being done ; and further, that the character 
of the Sensations experienced by the " subjects " depended very 
much on the Ideas they had been led to form of them, either by 
their own mental action, or by the suggestion of others. The 
following are a few examples of the results obtained by Mr. Braid, 
of many of which the Writer was himself a witness : — 

" A lady, upwards of fifty-six years of age, in perfect health, and 
wide awake, having been taken into a dark closet, and desired to 
look at the poles of the powerful horse- shoe magnet of nine elements, 
and describe what she saw, declared, after looking a considerable 

* Thus although certain of the ''sensitives" felt their hands po-werfuUy 
attracted towards a magnet, yet, as Reichenbach himself confessed, when the 
magnet was poised in a delicate balance, and the hand was placed above or 
beneath it, the magnet was never drawn towards the hand. The "attraction," 
therefore, although real to the " subject " of it, was generated by the Idea in th« 
"sensitive's" own Mind (§448). 



Production of Sensations by Ideas. i6i 

fcime, that sTie saw nothing. However, after I told her to look 
attentively, and she would see fire come out of it, she speedily saw 
sparks, and presently it seemed to her to burst forth, as she had 
witnessed an artificial representation of the volcano of Mount 
Vesuvius at some public gardens. Without her knowledge, I closed 
down the lid of the trunk which contained the magnet, hut still the 
mme appearances were described as visible. By putting leading 
questions, and asking her to describe what she saw from another 
part of the closet (where there was nothing but bare walls), she 
went on describing various shades of most brilliant coruscations 
and flame, according to the leading questions I had put for the 
purpose of changing the fundamental ideas. On repeating the 
experiments, similar results were repeatedly realised by this patient. 
On taking this lady into the said closet after the magnet had been 
removed to another part of the house, she still perceived the same 
visible appearances of light and flame when there was nothing but 
the bare walls to produce them ; and, two weeks after the magnet 
was removed, when she went into the closet by herself, the mere 
association of ideas was sufficient to cause her to realize a visible 
representation of the same light and flames. Indeed such had been 
the case with her on entering the closet, ever since the few first times 
she saw the light and flames. In like manner, when she was made 
to touch the poles of the magnet when wide awake, no manifestations 
of attraction took place between her hand and the magnet ; but the 
moment the idea was suggested that she would be held fast by its 
powerful attraction, so that she would be utterly unable to separate 
her hands from it, such result was realized ; and, on separating it 
by the suggestion of a new idea, and causing her to touch the other 
pole in like manner, predicating that it would exert no attractive 
power for the fingers or hand, such negative eff'ects were at once 
manifested. — I know this lady was incapable of trying to deceive 
myself, or others present; but she was self-deceived and spell-bound by 
the predominance of a pre-conceived idea, and was not less surprised 
at the varying powers of the instrument than others who witnessed 
the results." — {The Power of the Mind over the Body, 1846, p. 20.) 

146. Other "subjects " taken by Mr. Braid into his dark closet, 
and unable to see anything in the first instance, when told to look 



1 6 2 Of Seiisation. 



steadily at a certain point (though there was no magnet there), 
and assured that they would see flame and light of various colours 
issuing from it, very soon declared that they saw them ; and ii. 
some of them, " individuals of a highly concentrative and imagina* 
live turn of mind," the same sensations could be called up in open 
daylight. The following was an experiment made with and without 
the magnet, upon the sensations of the general surface; the "sub- 
ject " being a young gentleman twenty-one years of age : — 

a. ** I first operated on his right hand, by drawing a powerful horse- 
shoe magnet over the hand, without contact, whilst the armature 
was attached. He immediately observed a sensation of cold follow 
the course of the magnet. I reversed the passes, and he felt it Zess 
wld, but he felt no attraction between his hand and the magnet. I 
then removed the cross-bar, and tried the effect with both poles 
alternately, but still there was no change in the effect, and decidedly 
no proof of attraction between his hand and the magnet. — In the 
afternoon of the same day I desired him to look aside and hold his 
hat between his eyes and his hand, and observe the effects when I 
operated on him, whilst he could not see my proceedings. He very 
soon described a recurrence of the same sort of sensations as those he 
felt in the morning, but they speedily became more intense, and 
extended up the arm, producing rigidity of the member. In the 
course of two minutes this feeling attacked the other arm, and to 
some extent the whole body ; and he was, moreover, seized with a fit 
of involuntary laughter, like that of hysteria, which continued for 
several minutes— in fact, until I put an end to the experiment. 
His first remark was, ' Now this experiment clearly proves that 
there must be some intimate connection between mineral Magnetism 
and Mesmerism ; for I was most strangely affected, and could not 
possibly resist laughing during the extraordinary sensations with 
which my whole body was seized, as you drew the magnet over my 
hand and arm.' I replied that I drew a very different conclusion 
from the experiments, as I had never used the magnet at all, nor held 
it, nor anything else, near to him ; and that the whole proved the 
truth of my position as to the extraordinary power of the Mind ovei 
the Body."— (Op. cit., p. 16.; 



Production of Sensations by Ideas. 163 

Phenomena of the same kind were found to be producible without 
the use of a Magnet at all : — 

6. * ' Another interesting case of a married lady, I experimented with in 
presence of her husband, was as follows. I requested her to place her 
hand on the table, with the palm upwards, so situated as to enable 
her to observe the process I was about to resort to. I had previously 
remarked, that by my drawing something slowly over the hand, without 
contact, whilst the patient concentrated her attention on the process, 
she would experience some peculiar sensations in consequence. I 
took a pair of her scissors, and drew the bowl of the handle slowly from 
the wrist downwards. I had only done so a few times, when she 
felt a creeping, chilly sensation, which was immediately followed by 
a spasmodic twitching of the muscles, so as to toss the hand from the 
table, as the members of a prepared frog are agitated when gal- 
vanized. I next desired her to place her otlier hand on the table, in like 
manner, but in such a position, that by turning her head in the opposite 
direction she might not see what was being done, and to watch her 
sensations in that hand, and tell us the result. In about the same 
length of time, similar phenomena were manifested as with the other 
hand, although in this instance / liad done nothing whatever , and was 
not near her hand. I now desired her to watch what happened to 
her hand, when I predicted that she would feel it become cold ; and 
the result was as predicted ; and vice versd, predicting that she 
would feel it become intensely hot, such was realized. When I 
desired her to think of the tip of her nose, the predicted result 
either of heat or cold was speedily realized in that part. 

" Another lady, twenty-eight years of age, being operated on in the 
same manner, whilst looking at my proceedings, in the course of 
half a minute, described the sensation as that of the blood rushing 
into the fingers ; and when the motion of my pencil-case was from 
below upwards, the sensation was that of the current of blood being 
reversed, but less rapid in its motion. On resuming the downward 
direction, the original feeling recurred, still more powerfully than at 
first. — This lady being requested now to look aside, whilst I operated, 
realized similar sensations, and that whilst / was doing nothing, 

"The husband of this lady, twenty-eight and a half years of age, 
name Into the room, shortly after the above experiment was finished 



1 64 Of Sensation. 



She was very desirous of my trying the eflPect upon him, as he was in 
porfect health. I requested him to extend his right arm laterally, and 
let it rest on a chair with the palm upwards, to turn his head in the 
opposite direction, so that he might not see what I was doing, and to 
coEcentrate his attention on the feelings which might arise during 
my process. In about half-a-minute he felt an aura like a breath of 
air passing along the hand ; in a little after, a slight pricking, and 
presently a feeling passed along the arm, as far as the elbow, which 
he described as similar to that of being slightly electrified : — all this, 
while I had been doing nothing, beyond watching what might be 
realized. I then desired him to tell me what he felt now, — speaking 
in such a tone of voice, as was calculated to lead him to believe I was 
operating in some different manner. The result was that the former 
sensations ceased ; but when I requested him once more to tell me 
what he felt now, the former sensations recurred. I then whispered 
to his wife, but in a tone sufficiently loud to be overheard by him, 
observe now, and you will find his fingers begin to draw, and his 
hand will become clenched, — see how the little finger begins to move, 
and such was the case ; see the next one also going in like manner, 
and such effects followed ; and finally, the entire hand closed firmly, 
with a very unpleasant drawing motion of the whole flexor-muscles 
of the fore -arm. I did nothing whatever to this patient until the 
fingers were nearly closed, when I touched the palm of his hand with 
the point of my finger, which caused it to close more rapidly and 
firmly. After it had remained so for a short time, I blew upon the 
hand, which dissipated the previously existing mental impression, 
and instantly the hand became relaxed. The high respectability and 
intelligence of this gentleman rendered his testimony very valuable , 
and especially so, since he was not only wide awake, but had never 
been either mesmerised, hypnotised, or so tested before. — (Op. cit.t 
pp. 15^17.) 

147. The results thus obtained by experiment, being at the same 
time consistent with ordinary Medical experience, and accordant 
with Physiological probability, have an adequate claim to accept- 
ance as Scientific facts ; and it is obvious that, if the principle be 
once admitted that real Sensations are producible by Mental states, 



Spirihtalistic Experiences. — Spectral Illusions. 165 

this principle furnishes the key to the explanation of a large 
number of those " spiritualistic" experiences, in which objects are 
affirmed to be actually seen and felt, that only exist in the 
Imagination of the "subjects" of them. It has been no less 
happily than philosophically said by the Laureate, that " Dreama 
are true while they last ;" but we become conscious in our waking 
state of the "objective" unreality of what was for the time real to 
us, by its discordance with that general resultant of our waking 
experiences which we call " Common Sense." (Chap. XI.) Occa- 
sionally we are puzzled to answer the question, " Did this really 
happen, or did I dream it ? " — our perplexity arising from the fact, 
that the " trace" of what passed in our dream equals in vividness 
that which would have been left by the actual occurrence, and 
that there is nothing inconsistent with our experience, in the idea 
that it might have happened. — Now when a number of persons 
who are "possessed" with the current ideas in regard to Spiritual- 
istic manifestations, sit for some time in a dark room in a state 
of " expectant attention," it is conformable to all scientific pro- 
bability that they should see luminous manifestations, should 
wmell flowers, should /ee^ the contact of spirit-hands or the crawl- 
ing of live lobsters, or should hear musical sounds or the voices of 
departed friends, — just as they are prompted to do by their own 
course of thought, or by the suggestions of others ; the correction 
of these dreamy imaginings, by bringing common sense and 
scientific knowledge to bear upon them, being just what the 
votaries of the doctrine referred-to scornfully repudiate. 

148. Very nearly connected with the foregoing, are the pheno- 
mena oi Spectral Illusions ; which, like the creations of dreaming or 
delirium, are the products of the excitement of Sensorial activity 
by Cerebral change, operating through the " nerves of the internal 
senses ;" the essential difference being that as the Sensorium is 
not closed to external impressions, these mental images mingle 
with the sensations called forth by objective realities. A simple but 



1 66 Of Sensation. 



very illustrative case of this kind, which occurred in the experience 
of Sir John Herschel, has already been cited (§103); and it ib 
probable that we are to regard in the same light that Spectrum 
of the Sun, which Sir Isaac Newton was able to recall by going 
into the dark and directing his mind intansely, " as when a man 
looks earnestly to see a thing which is difficult to be seen," an 
which, after a frequent repetition of this process, came (he says 
to return *' as often as I began to meditate on the phenomena, even 
though I lay in bed at midnight with my curtains drawn." For 
although phenomena of this class are often regarded as ocular 
spectra produced by retinal change, their reproduction by mental 
states seems to place them in the same category as the 
visual sensations which are distinctly reproduced by Memory, 
that is, by cerebral change (§102). In fact, there is such 
a gradational transition from the one state to another, that it 
seems clear that they have a common origin. Thus Dr. Aber- 
crombie {Inquiries concerning the Intellectual Powers, 5th Edit., 
p. 382) mentions the case of a gentleman who was all his life 
haunted by Spectral figures, and could call up any at will, by directing 
his attention steadily to some conception of his own mind, which 
might either consist of a figure or a scene that he had seen, or might 
be a composition of his own imagination : but although possessing the 
faculty of producing the illusion, he had no power of banishing it ; 
so that when he had called-up any particular figure or scene, he 
could not say how long it might continue to haunt him. In this case 
the Sensorial state produced by Cerebral action so closely resembled 
the impression produced by the actual object, that, on meeting a 
fi'iend in the street, the subject of it could not satisfy himself 
whether he saw the real individual or the spectral figure, save by 
touching his body, or by hearing the sound of his footsteps, — t ho 
correction being here supplied by other Sense-impressions. In 
certain instances the unreality of these phantasms, however vivid, is 
recognized by the Intellect, from the consideration of the circum- 



spectral I Ihcsions, 167 

stances under which they occur : as in the well-known case of 
Nicolai, who, when suffering from intermittent fever, saw coloured 
pictures of landscapes, trees, and rocks, resembling framed paint^ 
ings, but of half the natural size ; so long as he kept his eyea 
closed, they underwent constant changes, some figures disappearing 
while new ones showed themselves ; but as soon as he opened hia 
eyes, the whole vanished. The following is another case of thia 
kind, in which the same Sensorial condition as in dreaming or 
delirium was accompanied by an Intellectual recognition of its 
objective unreality : — 

*' We knew a gentleman of strong mind> and a most accomplished 
Scholar, who was for many years subject to such phantasms, some 
sufficiently grotesque ; and he would occasionally laugh heartily at 
their antics. Sometimes it appeared as if they interrupted a con- 
versation in which he was engaged ; and then, if with his family or 
intimate friends, he would turn to empty space, and say, ' I don't 
care a farthing for ye ; ye amuse me greatly sometimes, but you are 
a bore just now.' His spectra, when so addressed, would to his eye 
resume their antics, at which he would laugh, turn to his friend, and 
continue his conversation. In other respects he was perfectly healthy, 
his mind was of more than ordinary strength, and he would speak of 
his phantoms, and reason upon their appearance, being perfectly 
C(msciou8 that the whole was illusive." 

149. It is a curious confirmation of the view here advocated aa 
to the distinctness between the parts of the Brain which are the 
mstruments of sensorial and of ideational states respectively, 
and of the inamediate relation of the former to the motor 
apparatus, that the presence of a Spectral illusion will often 
operate in* directing movement, even though there be an inteb 
lectual consciousness that there is no objective cause for it, and 
that the movement is consequently inappropriate. A lady nearly 
connected with the Writer, having been frightened in childhood 
by a black cat, which spning-up from beneath her pillow just aa 



1 68 Of Sensation, 



she was laying her head upon it, was accustomed for many years 
afterwards, whenever she was at all indisposed, to see a black cat 
on the ground before her ; and although intellectually aware of the 
spectral character of the appearance, yet she could never avoid 
lifting her foot as if to step over the cat, when it seemed to Ise 
Ijing in her path.* 

150. When, as the cases last cited, the Spectral image distinctly 
represents an external object, it must be regarded as not merely a 
Sensorial but as a Perceptional illusion. A far more frequent cause 
of false perceptions, however, lies in the misinterpretation of real 
Sense-impressions, under the influence of pre-existing Ideational 
states, — ^a subject which will be more fitly considered hereafter 
(§186). 

151. Relation of Sensations to other Mental States. — It is through 
the medium of Sensation, that we acquire a knowledge of the 
Universe external to us, by the Psychical operations which its 
changes excite in ourselves. The Psychologist of the present day 
views Matter entirely through the light of his own consciousness : 
— his idea of matter in the abstract being that it is a " something " 
which has a permanent power of exciting Sensations ; his idea of 
any property of matter being the mental Representation of 
some kind of sense-impression he has received from it ; and his 
idea of any particular kind of matter being the Eepresentation 
of the whole aggregate of the sense-perceptions which its presence 
has called up in his mind. 

" Thus when I press my hand against this table, I recognise it« 
unyieldingness through the conjoint medium of my sense of Touch, 
my Muscular sense, and my Mental sense of Effort, to which it will 
be convenient to give the general designation of the Ta(?tile sense; 
and I attribute to that table a hardness which resists the effort 1 

* A very interesting collection of cases of Spectral Illusions will be found in 
Dr. Abercrombie's Treatise, and in Sir B. Brodie's "Psychological Inquiries ;" see 
fclso Sir John Herschel's own experiences in his "Familiar Lectures on Scientific 
Bubjects," pp. 403-5. 



Cognition of Properties of Matter. 169 



make to press my hand into its substance, whilst I also recognise the 
fact that the force I have employed is not sufficient to move its mass. 
But I press my hand against a lump of dough ; and finding that its 
substance yields under my pressure, I call it soft. Or again, I press 
my hand against this desk ; and I find that although I do not 
thereby change its /orm, I change its 'plaze ; and so I get the Tactile 
idea of Motion. Again, by the impressions received through the 
same Sensorial apparatus, when I lift this book in my hand, I am 
led to attach to it the notion of weight or ponderosity ; and by lifting 
different solids of about the same size, I am enabled, by the different 
degrees of exertion I find myself obliged to make in order to sustain 
them, to distinguish some of them as light, and others as heavy. 
Through the medium of another set of Sense-impressions (which some 
regard as belonging to a different category), we distinguish between 
bodies that /eeZ 'hot' and those that /ee? *cold'; and in this manner we 
arrive at the notion of differences of Temperature. And it is through 
the medium of our Tactile sense, without any aid from Vision, that 
we first gain the idea of solid form, or the three dimensions of 
Space. 

"Again, by the extension of our Tactile experiences, we acquire 
the notion of liquids, as forms of matter yielding readily to pressure, 
but possessing a sensible weight which may equal that of solids : and 
of air, whose resisting power is much slighter, and whose weight is 
go small that it can only be made sensible by artificial means. Thus, 
then, we arrive at the notions of resistance and of lueight as properties 
common to all forms of Matter ; and now that we have got rid of 
that idea of Light and Heat, Electricity and Magnetism, as ' im- 
ponderable fluids,' which used to vex our souls in our scientific 
childhood, and of which the popular term * electric fluid ' is a 
' survival,' we accept these properties as affording the practical 
distinction between the ' material' and the 'immaterial.' 

" Turning, now, to that other great portal of Sensation, the Sight, 
through which we receive most of the messages sent to us from the 
Universe around, we recognise the same truth. Thus it is agreed 
ftlike by Physicists and Physiologists, that colour does not exist a$ 
tuck in the object itself ; which has merely the power of reflecting or 
transmitting a certain number of millions of undulations in a second ; 
and these only pi oduce that affection of our consciousness which wa 



1 70 Of Se7isation, 

call Colour, when they fall upon the retina of the living percipient. 
And if there be that defect either in the retina or in the apparatus 
bbhind it, which we call ' colour-blindness ' or ' Daltonism,' some 
particular hues cannot be distinguished, or there may even be no 
power of distinguishing any colour whatever. If we were all likj 
Dalton, we should see no difference, except in form, between rip€ 
cherries hanging on a tree, and the green leaves around them : if we 
were all affected *»^.h the severest form of colour-blindness, the fair 
face of Nature would be seen by us as in the chiaroscuro of an 
engraving of one of Turner's landscapes, not as in the glowing hues 
of the wondrous picture itself." — {^Addrtas to the Meeting of the British 
Association^ 1872.) 

152. If it were possible for a Human being to come into the 
world with a Brain perfectly prepared to be the instrument of 
Psychical operations, but with all the inlets to Sense-impressions 
closed, we have every reason to believe that the Mind would remain 
dormant, like a seed buried deep in the earth. The attentive 
study of cases in which there is congenital deficiency of one or 
more Sensations, makes it evident that the Mind is utterly 
incapable of forming any definite Ideas in regard to those proper 
ties of objects, of which those particular sensations are adapted to 
take cognizance. Thus the man who is born blind, can form no 
conception of colour ; nor the congenitally-deaf, of musical tones. 
And in those lamentable cases in which the sense of Touch is the 
only one through which Ideas can be called-forth, the Mental 
operations necessarily remain of the simplest and most limited 
cliaracter, — unless the utmost attention be given by a judicious 
instructor, to the development of the Intellectual faculties, and 
the cultivation of the Moral feelings, through that restricted class 
of ideaj} which there is a possibility of exciting.* 

153. The activity of the Mind, then, is just as much the resuli 
;f its consciousness of external impressions, by which its faculties 

* Of the extent to which this may be accorairlished, the well-known case of 

Laam Bridgeman affords a most remarkable exemplification. 



Dependence of Me7ital Activity upon Sensations. 1 7 1 

are called into play, as the life of the Body is dependent upon the 
appropriation of nutrient materials, and vthe constant influence of 
external forces. But there is this difference between the two 
cases, — that whilst the Body continually requires new materials 
and a continued action of external agencies, the Mind, when it has 
b;;en once called into activity, and has become stored with Ideas, 
may remain active, and may develope new relations and combina- 
tions amongst these, after the complete closure of the Sensorial 
inlets by which new ideas can be excited ah externo. Such, in 
fact, is what is continually going-on in the state of Dreaming ; but 
examples yet more remarkable are furnished in the vivid con- 
ceptions which may be formed of a landscape or a picture, from 
oral description, by those who have once enjoyed sight ; or in the 
composition of music, even such as involves new combinations 
of sounds, by those who have become deaf, as in the well-known 
case of Beethoven. The mind thus feeds, as it were, upon the 
store of Ideas which it has laid-up during the activity of its 
Sensory organs : and not only are those impressions which it 
consciously retains, worked-up into a never-ending variety of 
combinations and successions of ideas, thus continuing to afford 
new sources of mental activity, even to the very end of life ; but 
impressions of which the Mind, though once conscious of them, 
seems even to itself to have entirely lost the traces, may recur 
spontaneously, and influence its trains of thought, at periods long 
subsequent to their reception. (Chap. X.) 

154. With particular Sensations are connected /eeZm^s of Pain 
or Pleasure, which cannot (for the most part at least) be explained 
upon any other principle than that of the necessary associati(;n of 
these feelings, by an original law of our nature, with the sensar 
tions in question. As a general rule, it may be stated that tlie 
violent excitement of any sensation is disagreeable, even when the 
same sensation in a moderate degree may be a source of extreme 
pleasure. This is the case alike with those impressions which are 



172 Of Sensation, 



communicatetl through the organs of Sight, Hearing, Smell, and 
Taste, as with those that are received through the nerves of Com- 
mon sensation ; and the association of painful feelings with 3uch 
violent excitement, serves to stimulate the individual to remoi?fi» 
himself from what would be injurious in its effects. Thus, iha 
pain resulting from violent pressure on the cutaneous surface, or 
from the proximity of a heated body, gives warning of the danger 
of injury, and excites mental operations destined to remove the 
part from the influence of the injurious cause \ and this is shown 
by the fact, that loss of sensibility is frequently the indirect occa/- 
sion of severe lesions, — the individual not receiving the customary 
intimation that an injurious process is taking place.* Thus, violent 
inflammation of the membrane lining the air-passages has resulted 
from the efl'ects of ammoniacal vapours incautiously introduced 
into them during a fainting-fit, — the patient not receiving that 
notice of the irritation, which, in the active condition of his Nervoua 

* The following case, recorded in the "Journal of a Naturalist," affords a 
remarkable instance of this general fact. The correctness of the statement 
having been called in question, it was fully confirmed by Mr. Richard Smith, the 
late senior Surgeon of the Bristol Infirmary, under whose care the sufferer had 
been : — "A travelling man, one winter's evening, laid himself down upon the 
platform of a lime-kiln, placing his feet, probably numbed with cold, upon the 
heap of stones newly put on to burn through the night. Sleep overcame him in 
this situation ; the fire gradually rising and increasing, until it ignited the stones 
upon which his feet were placed. Lulled by the warmth, the man slept on : the 
fii'e increased until it burned one foot (which probably was extended over a vent- 
hole) and part of the leg above the ankle entirely off, consuming that part so 
effectually that a cinder-like fragment was alone i-emaining, — and still the wretch 
slept on ! and in this state was found by the kiln-man in the morning. Insensible 
to any pain, and ignorant of his misfortune, he attempted to rise and pursue hia 
journey ; but missing his shoe, requested to have it found ; and when he waa 
raised, putting his burnt limb to the ground to support his body, the extremity of 
his leg-bone, the tibia, crumbled into fragments, having been calcined into lime. 
Still he expressed no sense of pain, and probably experienced none ; from the 
gradual operation of the fire, and his own torpidity during the hours his foot was 
consuming. This poor drover survived his misfortunes in the hospital about a 
fortnight ; but the fire having extended to other parts of his body, recovery waa 
kopeleso." 



Association of Pain or Pleasure with Sensations. 1 73 

Rystem, would have prevented him from inhaling the noxious 
agent. 

155. The feelings of Pain or Pleasure which unaccustomed 
sensations excite, are often exchanged for each other when the 
system is habituated to them; this is especially the case in regard 
to impressions communicated through the organs of Smell and 
Taate. There are many ai tides in common use among mankind, — 
such as Tobacco, Alcoholic liquors, &c., the use of which cannot bo 
said to produce a natural enjoyment, since they are at first un- 
pleasant to most persons ; and yet they first become tolerable, 
then agreeable ; and at last the want of them is felt as a painful 
privation, and the stimulus must be applied in an increasing 
degree in order to produce the usual efiect. These all belong 
to the class of " nervine stimulants ; " and it can scarcely be 
questioned that the result of their continual employment is to pro- 
duce a modification of the nutrition of the Nervous system, which 
engenders a Physical want when they are withheld, comparable to 
that of Hunger or Thirst (§ 138). 

156. On the same level with the simple feelings of Pleasure and 
Pain which are associated with particular Sensations, but distinct 
from these in the manner in which they aff'ect us, are those general 
feelings of personal well-being, or of its reverse malaise, which, whilst 
so intimately connected with states of the Bodily system as to be 
producible by them alone, are also the rudimentary forms of those 
higher Psychical states which we term emotions. These feelings, 
in their lowest stage of development, are purely " subjective ; " 
the individual being simply conscious of them, and not referring 
them to any external source. There are many persons who arc 
so keenly susceptible of both, that they pass their whole lives in 
an alternation betAveen cheerfulness and depression : the former 
state being favoured by freedom from anxiety, by the healthful 
activity of all the organic functions, by a bright sun and a diy 
bracing atmosphere j whilst the latter is immediately induced by 



1 74 0/ Sensation. 



mental disq^uietude, by a slight disorder of digestion or excretion, or 
by a dull oppressive day. And a concurrence of favourable condi- 
tions may even exalt this Goencesthesis (or self-feeling) into exhilara- 
twn or absolute joi/ ; whilst the combined influence of those of 
the opposite kind may produce gloom, which may be exaggerated 
almost to despair. We shall hereafter see cogent reasons for re- 
garding these conditions as purely Physical (§ § 535, 552). Tl.e con- 
dition of " the spirits " (as these Mental affections are commonly 
designated) most to be desired, however, is that of tranquil com- 
fort ; which is far more favourable than the alternation of ex- 
tremes, to healthful activity and to sustained energy, alike of Body 
and of Mind. And this may be cherished by cultivating the habit 
of Volitional self-control (§ 271), whereby any tendency to undue 
exhilaration is moderated, and excessive depression is resisted by 
a determinate effort not to yield to it. 

157. Similar states of Consciousness may be excited by causes 
purely Psychical ; and although we are then accustomed to desig- 
nate them as Emotions, yet their nature and their seat are pro- 
bably the same in the one case as the other. The simple 
feeling which we experience from a piece of " good " or of " bad 
news," is so nearly allied to the Pleasure or Pain we experience 
in connection with Sensations, that we may fairly regard the 
instrumentality by which we become conscious of it as sensorial 
rather than Cerebral; the state of the Sensorium being affected, 
in the one case, by impressions conveyed to it by the *' nerves of 
the internal senses," just as it is in the other by those brought to 
it by the nerves of the external senses. It often happens, moreover, 
that the impression thus made upon the " emotional sensibility " is 
more persistent than the ideational state which gave rise to it ; for 
after some disagreeable occurrence, or the receipt of ill-tidings, we 
feel an abiding consciousness of discomfort or distress, although we 
determinately keep from our Mental view the recollection of the 
unpleasant idea, in order that we may not be disturbed by dwelling 



Simple Forms of Emotional Sensibility, 1 75 

too painfully on it. It may often be observed, moreover, that when 
the passions have been stirred in states of Somnambulism, Hypno- 
tism, &c., a disturbed ccenoesthesis is carried-on into the ordinary 
state, although the "subject" is altogether unconscious of the 
nature or causes of the emotional excitement (§ 491). — There aro 
fe-w other forms of emotional sensibility which are so completely 
subjective as the foregoing ; most of them having reference to some? 
object which is felt to be external to Self, and therefore belongiiig 
to the next category (§ 189). But we seem justified in referring 
to this group, as being nearly allied to the foregoing, though 
scarcelj' capable of being grouped together with them, the sense of 
€njoym.ent in activity , and its converse the sense of tedium in inactivity 
(commonly known as ennui) ; both of which are purely subjective 
states, and are obviously manifested by the lower Animals, — chiefly, 
however, in connection with their bodily functions, — whilst in 
Man it is the want of mental occupation that is the chief source of 
Ennui.* 

* The Writer would here express his ohligations to his friend Dr. Noble, of 
Manchester, for many valuable suggestions in regard to the diversified fonua of 
"Emotional Sensibility," and its relations to Sensational, Perceptional, and 
Ideational states respectively — See his "Elements of Psychological Medicine" 
2iid Ed,, 1855), and his subsequent treatise on "The Human Mind" (18.[}6). 



16 



CHAPTER V. 

OP PEEOEPTION AND INSTINCT. 

158. Neither the operations of the Intellectual Powers, nor the 
higher Emotional states, are immediately called-forth by Sensa- 
tions ; for in that stage of consciousness we merely recognize the 
fact that certain changes have occurred in our own "subjective" 
state, and do not refer these changes to any external or " objective " 
source. Of such a limitation, we occasionally meet with examples 
among the phenomena of Sleep, and in some of the conditions 
resulting from the use of Anaesthetic agents: for if we fall asleep 
whilst suffering from bodily pain, we may entirely lose all percep- 
tion of the cause of that pain, and yet remain conscious of a per- 
turbed state of feeling, which may affect the course of our dream ; 
and when a surgical operation is performed in a state of incom- 
plete anaesthesia, it is obvious that pain is felt without any dis- 
tinct consciousness of its source, and the patient may subsequently 
describe his state as an uneasy dream. Such, it is probable, is 
the condition of the infant at the commencement of its Psychical 
life. " If," as has been well remarked by Dr. J. D. Morell 
(Philosophy of Religion^ p. 7), " we could by any means transport 
ourselves into the mind of an Infant before the Perceptive 
consciousness is awakened, we should find it in a state of 
absolute isolation from everything else in the world around 
it. Whatever objects may be presented to the Eye, the Ear, 
or the Touch, they are treated simply as subjective feelings^ with- 
out the Mind's possessing any consciousness of them as objects 
at all. To it, the inward world is e'oerything^ the outward world is 
nothingy — However difiicult it may be, under the influence of 



Nature of Perception. 177 

life-long experience, to dissociate any Sensation of which we are 
cognizant, from the notion of its external cause — since, the 
moment the feeling is experienced, and the Mind is directed to it, 
the ohject from which it arises is immediately suggested, — yet 
liothing is more certain than that all of which we are 'primarily con- 
wious in any case whatever, is a certain internal or subjective 
state, a change in our previous Consciousness ; and that the mental 
recognition of the object to which that change is due, is dependent 
upon a higher process, to which the name of Perception is now 
generally accorded. We may recognize the manifestation of this 
process in the Child, as it advances beyond the first few months 
of its helplessness. " A sight or a sound," remarks Dr. Morell 
(Op. cit), " which at first produced simply an involuntary start, 
now awakens a smile or a look of recognition. The mind is 
evidently struggling out of itself ; it begins to throw itself into the 
objects around, and to live in the world of outward realities." A 
similar transition, more rapidly effected, may be distinguished in 
ourselves, during the passage from Sleep, or from the insensibility 
of a swoon, to the state of wakeful activity; when we are at 
first conscious only of our own sensations, and gradually come to 
the knowledge of our condition as it relates to the world around, 
and of the position and circumstances, new and strange as they 
may be, in which we find ourselves. 

159. Now the apprehension, or the formation of an elementary 
Notion, of the outness or externality of the cause of a Sensational 
change, is an operation which the Mind seems necessarily to per- 
form, when it has attained a certain stage of development ; in- 
stinctively or intuitively making a definite distinction between the 
ielf and the not-self, the subject and the ohject. We do not infer the 
existence of objective realities by any act of the Keason; in fact, 
the strict application of logical processes tends rather to shake 
than to confirm the belief in the External World ; but our Minds 
being at first subjectively impressed by the qualities of matter, 



r yS Of Perception and Instinct 

we gradually learn to interpret and combine the impressions they 
make upon our consciousness, so as to derive from them a more 
or less definite notion of the object (§ 151). Some of these Notions 
are so simple, and so constantly excited by certain Sensations, tha, 
we can scarcely do otherwise than attribute their formation tf* 
original and fundamental properties of the Mind, called Inno 
activity by the sensations in question ; thus, the notion of hard- 
ness seems to connect itself from the first with the sense of abso- 
lute resistance, the notion of direction with the consciousness of 
diversity of parts in the visual picture. Such perceptions are said 
to be instinctive or original. In other cases, however, the notions 
are connected with the sensations by habit alone ; the connection 
being the result of the association which gradually establishes 
itself between them, so that a certain sense-impression invariably 
calls up a certain notion of an object answering to it. And 
thus it may happen that a wrong interpretation may be put 
upon the sensational state, merely through some change in the con- 
ditions under which it has been habitually received ; as in the 
following very simple experiment : — If the middle finger of either 
hand be crossed behind the fore-finger, so that its extremity is on 
the thumb-side of the latter, and the ends of the two fingers thus 
disposed be rolled over a marble, pea, or other round body, a 
sensation will be produced, which, if uncorrected by reason, would 
cause the mind to believe in the existence of two distinct bodies ; 
this being due to the impression being made at the same time 
upon two spots, which, in the ordinary position of the fingers, are 
at a considerable distance from each other. 

160. There can be no doubt that, during the period of Infancy, 
a very rapid and energetic process of self-education is going on ; 
the whole mind, so far as it is yet developed, being concentrated 
upon its Perceptive activity : and when once a complete inter- 
pretation has thus been attained of any particular group of 
Sensations, it so immediately occurs to the consciousness whenever 



Acqidre7nent of Perceptiojis in Man. 179 

those sensations may be renewed, as to have all the directness of 
an original perception. Thus it is very difficult, at later periods 
of life, to discriminate the Perceptions which are really instinctive, 
from those which have been acquired during Infancy. 

It would be wrong to draw inferences on this point from the 
i*:.t 10A8 of the lower Animals ; for in those cases in which the young 
are dependent from the first on the exertion of their own powers, it 
is obvious that they have a larger range of Instinctive perceptions 
than is possessed by those which derive their early sustenance from 
their parents. Many of them, for example, manifest a guiding 
appreciation of direction and distance, which Man can only gain by 
long experience. Thus, a Ely-catcher just come out of its shell, has 
been seen to peck- at and capture an Insect, with an aim as perfect as 
if it had been all its life engaged in learning the art.* — Still more 
remarkable is the perception that guides the actions of a little Fish, 
the Chottodon rostratus, which shoots-out drops of fluid from its 
prolonged snout, so as to strike Insects that happen to be near the 
surface of the water, thus causing them to fall-in, and to be brought 
within its reach. Now by the refraction of light, the real place 
of the Insect in the air will not be that at which it appears to 
the Fish in the water, but will be a little lelow its apparent place ; 
and to this point the aim must be directed. The difference between 
the real and the apparent place, moreover, will not be constant ; for 
the more perpendicularly the rays enter the water, the less will be 
the variation ; and, on the other hand, the more oblique the 
d rection, the greater will be the diflference. 

161. It has been recently maintained that the want, both of 
the apprehension of distance, and of the power of directing the 
Muscular movements so as at once to lay hold of an object, which 
vverj one who carefully observes the actions of the Human 
I n Tint must recognize, is a mere matter of development ; the 
human infant coming into the world in a less advanced condition 

* See the experiments of Mr. Spalding on this subject, detailed in his paper in 
" Macmillan's Magazine " for February, 1873, to which reference has already 
been made (§ 77). 



i8o Of Perception and Ins tijicL 

ihan the young of many other animals, which are able to run 
about and seek their own sustenance from the first. But the 
Writer has strong personal reasons for asserting that such is not 
the fact. Having been introduced into the Medical profession by 
an eminent Surgeon of Bristol (the late Mr. J. B. Estlin), \fho 
had a large Ophthalmic practice in the West of England and South 
Wales, he had the opportunity of seeing many cases of congenital 
Cataract cured by operation ; the condition of these children being 
exactly parallel in respect of Vision, to that of Mr. Spalding's 
hooded chicks. Generally speaking, the operation was performed 
within the first twelve months ; but he distinctly remembers two 
cases, in one of which the subject was a remarkably sturdy little 
fellow of three years old, whilst the other was a lad of nine. In 
the latter, however, there had been more visual power before the 
operation, than in the former ; and he therefore presents the well 
remembered case of Jemmy Morgan as the basis of his assertion, 
that the acquirement of the power of visually guiding the 
muscular movements is experiential in the case of the Human 
Infant : — 

Jemmy had most assuredly come to that stage of his development, 
which would justify the expectation that if he had his Sight he 
would at once use it lor his guidance, supposing the power of doing 
so to be congenital, for his father being a farmer a few miles out 
of Bristol, he was accustomed to go about by himself in the farm- 
yard, where he made friends with every one of its inhabitants, and 
picked up from the labourers a very improper accomplishment, — 
that of swearing most horribly. He was so strong, that it was 
necessary for the performance of the operation that his body should 
be bound down upon a table, and that each of his limbs and his head 
should be held by a separate assistant. The Writer remembers that 
he had charge of his head, which he found it impossible altogether to 
l)revent him from rolling from side to side; whilst his roars and curses 
seem even now ringing in the Writer's ears. The operation, performed 
with consummate dexterity, — the handle of the cataract-needle being 
left by Mr. Estlin to "play" between his fingers, as Jemmy's head 



Acquirejnent of Vistial Perceptions. l8l 

«w)«Z(i move in spite of the strongest efforts to restrain it, — ^waa 
entirely successful. In a few days both pupils were almost clear ; 
and it was obvious from his actions that he had distinct Visual Per- 
ceptions. But though he clearly recognised the direction of a candle or 
other bright object, he was as unable as an Infant to apprehend it* 
iistance; so that when told to lay hold of a watch, he groped at it, just 
like a young child lying in its cradle. It was very gradually that he 
came to use his Sight for the guidance of his movements : and when 
going about the house at which he was staying in Bristol, with which 
he had familiarized himself before the operation, he generally shut hi$ 
eyes, as if puzzled rather than aided by them. "When he came up to 
Mr. Estlin's house, however, he would show that he was acquiring a 
considerable amount of visual power; and it was his favourite amuse- 
ment there, to blow about with his breath a piece of white paper on 
the surface of a dark mahogany table, round and round which he 
would run, as he wafted the paper from one side to another, shouting 
with glee at his novel exploit. Nevertheless, when he returned home 
to his father's house and farm-yard, his parents (very intelligent 
people) remarked that he was for some time obviously puzzled by 
his Sight, shutting his eyes as he went about in his old way ; though 
whenever he went to a new place, he was obviously aided by it. But it 
was several months before he came to trust to it for his guidance, as 
other children of his age would do. — Jemmy's case was very carefully 
observed, both by Mr. Estlin and the Writer, with full knowledge of 
the interest attaching to such observations ; and every fact the 
Writer has here stated remains as distinctly impressed on his mind 
at the distance of more than forty years, as if it had only happened 
yesterday, — the image of Jemmy, in his red frock, and with his still 
redder legs, being more vivid than any other reminiscence of hia 
early professional life. 

162. This formation of acquired Perceptions, and their gradual 
assumption of the immediate character of those which belong to our 
orij^inal constitution (§§ 167, 168), bear a striking iinalogy to the 
process by which habitual Movements come to be linked-on to the 
Sensations that prompt them, so as at last to be automatically 
performed, although originally directed by the Will. And it can 
scarcely be regarded as improbable, that, in the one case as in the 



1 8 2 Of Perception and Instinct 

other, the Nervous Mechanism grows-to particular modes of 
activity (§ 138) ; so that successions of change are uniformly 
excited by particular stimuli, which were not provided-for in 
its original construction. Such a view harmonizes well with the 
fact, that such associations, alike between Sensations and respon- 
dent movements, and between Sensations and respondent ideas, are 
formed much more readily during the period of Childhood and 
Adolescence, than they are after the full measure of development 
has been attained ; and that they are much more durable in the 
former case than in the latter. Throughout the whole Consti- 
tution of Man, as well Physical as Mental, we witness a marked 
capacity of adaptation to a great variety of circumstances ; and by 
the self-education directed by those circumstances, he gradually 
acquires those modes of action, which in other Animals are 
originally and uniformly prompted by their Instinctive tendencies. 
It will be shown hereafter (§275) to be accordant with the general 
laws of Nutrition, that such habitual modes of action should 
express themselves in the formation of the Nervous mechanism, so 
as to develope in it arrangements corresponding to those which 
it elsewhere originally possessed ; and that such arrangements, 
when once formed, should be kept-up through life, provided that 
they are not allowed to pass into disuse. Hence, although placed 
at a disadvantage in comparison with other Animals during the 
earlier periods of his life, Man is enabled ultimately to attain to a 
far wider range of Perceptive appreciation than that to which 
they are limited ; there being, in fact, no class of Sense-impres- 
sions, from which, by habitual Attention to them (§ 127), hu may 
not draw information of a far more precise and varied nature, than 
they seemed at first to be capable of affording. 

163. We have seen that, for the production of a Sensation, a 
conscious state of Mind is all that is required ; whilst, on the other 
haod, for the exercise of the Perceptive power, a certain degree of 
Attention is requisite ; or, in other words, the Mind must oe directed 



No Perception without Attention. 183 



towards the sensation. And thus it happens that, "^hen the Mind 
is either inactive, or is completely engrossed by some other subject 
of thought, the Sensation may neither be perceived nor remem- 
bered, notwithstanding that we have evidence, derived from th@ 
respondent movements of the body, that it has been felt. Thus a 
person in a state of imperfect Sleep may start at a loud sound, or 
may turn-away from a light shining on his face ; being conscious of 
the Sensation, and acting automatically upon it, but forming no 
kind of appreciation of the externality of its source. And, in like 
manner, a person in a state of profound Abstraction (§ 443) may 
perform many automatic movements, which cannot (so far as we 
know) be excited otherwise than through the medium of Sensation ; 
and yet the exciting sensations are neither perceived by him at the 
time, nor are they afterwards remembered ; so that when he 
is aroused from his reverie, he may be astonished to find himself 
in circumstances altogether different from those under which 
he passed into it. Sometimes, however, the Sense-impression may 
excite a sort of imperfect Perception, which is subsequently 
remembered and completed. For example, the Student who does 
not hear the repeated strokes of the clock, when his mind is 
entirely given-up to his object of pursuit, may have a sort of vague 
consciousness of them if his attention be less completely engrossed 
by his studies ; and although the sounds may not suggest at the 
moment any distinct idea of the passage of time, yet, when he 
subsequently gives his attention to the Sensorial impression, he 
may remember to have heard the clock strike, and may even 
be able to retrace the number of strokes.* When the Attention 

• It is curious that, in so retracing a number, we are often assisted by mentally 
ifiproducing the succession of strokes ; imagining their recurrence, until we feel 
that we have counted-up to the impression that was left upon our Sensorium. — In 
tie same way, if asked how many stairs there are in a staircase which we are in 
the habit of using, we may not be able to name the number ; yet, when actually 
ascending or descending, we are conscious that we have arrived at the top or the 
bottom, by the completion of that series of Sensorial changes which haa becoma 
habitual to us. 



[84 Of Perception and Instinct, 

is directed, however, to the sonorous impressions (as when we 
are listening for the striking of the clock), or when it is not 
BO closely fixed on any other object as to prevent it from being 
attracted by the Sense-impressions, the sounds are not only 
recognized as proceeding from an external source, which is a 
simple act of Perception, but the sensations we perceive are dis- 
criminated from all others of like nature ; and it is by this kind 
of mental intensification of the perceptive change to which they 
give rise, that the sensations themselves are impressed with 
1^0 much additional force on our consciousness, as to seem extra- 
ordinarily increased in acuteness. Although we are accustomed to 
see this chiefly in cases where some particular kind of perceptive 
acuteness has been acquired by liahit (§ 127), yet we may learn 
from certain phenomena of Somnambulism (both spontaneous 
and artificial) that nothing more is needed, than that concen- 
tration of the whole mind upon the Sensorial indications, which i? 
the natural state of the Infant (§ 498). 

164. Taking as the basis of the knowledge possessed by Man ol 
any object external to him (and therefore of the External World 
generally), ^r*'^, a subjective Sensation called forth by the presence 
of that object ; secondly, the recognition of the externality of the 
cause of that sensation ; and thirdly, the formation of a notion re- 
specting the quality of the object which called it forth, — we have 
next to inquire into the mode in which such elementary Notions or 
Cognitions (which are afterwards to be combined into the composii e 
Idea of the object) are generated. How far any of them aie 
original or intuitive, is a question which has been mucli dis- 
c^issed by Psychologists : some maintaining that all such Notitjus 
ai-e generalizations based on experience ; whilst others regard 1 hem 
as the products of Intuition, that is, as mental instincts, of which 
no other account can be given, than that such cognitions are 
formed — like the sensations that excite them — from "a law of oui 
nature." Psychologists of both schools agree in considering the 



Sense of Direction. 185 



Wmalion of these elementary Notions, like the perfcrraance of 
movements prompted or guided by them, as an automatic action ; 
the difference in their views consisting in this, — that Intuition 
alists regard this action as primarily automatic, while Psycho 
legists of the Experience-school regard it as secondarily automatic. 
As it appears to the Writer that Physiology can throw consider- 
able light on this question, he will here examine in some detail 
tlie mode in which those visual perceptions are formed, whereon 
we mainly depend for our ordinary guidance. 

165. One of the most elementary of our Visual cognitions is the 
Sense of Direction, whereby we recognize the relations of the points 
from which luminous rays issue, and thus see objects erect, though 
their pictures on the retina are inverted. Some Psychologists 
have gone so far as to assert that Infants really see all objects 
inverted, and only acquire the true notion of their position in 
reference to themselves, by the corrective experience gained by 
touching and handling them. But this is a pure assumption, 
founded on an entirely erroneous notion of the nature of Sensa- 
tion. For it supposes that we look at the picture formed on the 
retina, by the " mind's eye " placed behind it, just as we look at 
the picture formed by a camera with the bodily eye ; whereas the 
fact is unquestionable, that Sensation is a state of consciousness 
excited by the transmission to the Sensorium (through the optic 
nerve) of the impression produced by the picture on the retina, 
and as we know nothing whatever of the moae in which the 
Physical change is translattd, so to speak, into the Mental, there 
is no reason why it should be less natural for the retinal iniprcs 
sion to suggest to the mind the notion of the real positio]i of an 
object, than to call up a representation corresponding to its inverted 
picture. As a matter of fact, it is found that persons who have 
for the first time acquired Sight by operation, at an age wlieu tl ey 
can describe their sensations, are able to recognise the direction of 
any hmiinous object, though quite incapable of appreciating its 



1 86 Of Perception and Instinct, 

distance. And it appears from the experiments of Dr. Serre,* that 
the luminous spectra produced when pressure is made upon the 
eye in a dark room, are seen in a direction which has in each case 
a constant and definite relation to the part of the retina that is 
affected by the pressure, either directly, or secondarily through its 
transmission to the opposite side of the globe. By an extensiye 
series of observations on the relation of the positions of these 
primary and secondary phosplidnes, both to each other and to the 
seat of compression. Dr. Serre has been able to deduce the im- 
portant conclusion, that the lines joining these spectra and the 
spots of the retina by the affection of which they are produced, all 
pass through a common " centre of direction," which is situated 
nearly in the middle of the crystalline lens. And from these facts 
it seems a legitimate conclusion, that our sense of the relative 
directions of external objects, which affect different points of our 
retina by their luminous rays, is primarily derived from a kind of 
extradition of the Visual sensation, corresponding to that which 
takes place in the case of our Tactile (§ 132). The Writer quite 
agrees, however, with Professor Bain, that in our ordinary use o 
Vision we are greatly guided as to the recognition of relative 
direction, by the Muscular Sense called forth in the movements 
we give to our eyeballs, when we transfer oiir gaze from one point 
of a visual picture to another. 

166. The recognition of the singleness of the object which forma 
a simultaneous visual picture on both eyes, has been very gener- 
ally regarded by Physiologists as necessarily arising, by " a law of 
our nature," from a certain structural relation between what have 
been temied " corresponding points " on the two retinae ; " double 
irision," or the recognition of two distinct images, taking place 
whenever, through a want of harmony in the action of the muscles, 
the axes of the two eyes do not converge in the object looked-at. 
But this view of the case is inconsistent with the fact, that if such 

i sur les Phosphenes," Paris, 1853. 



Single and Double Vision. 187 

abnormal conditions should become permanent (as in squinting) 
the vision after a time becomes " single " again, notwithstanding 
that the pictures are formed on parts of the retinae which do not 
correspond, Further, if the Muscular irregularity be rectified by 
surgical means, so that the axes of the two eyes can be again 
brought into convergence in the object looked at, double vision 
recurs for a time, although the images are now formed upon the 
original " corresponding points." It is also a fact well kno\\Ti to 
Ophthalmic Surgeons, that if an opaque spot has been formed in 
the centre of the cornea, or an artificial pupil has been made at 
the margin of the iris, so that the most distinct vision is gained 
when the axis of one eye is directed, not to the object, but to some 
other point, such direction will become habitual ; yet although, 
when the two eyes work together, there is a decided squint, there 
is no " double vision." Since it is clear from these facts, that the 
recognition of the singleness of the object of sensation is the result 
of experience, in the cases in which it supersedes a temporary 
double vision, it may be fairly so regarded in the case of the 
Infant ; more particularly since observation shows that the con- 
vergence of its eyes upon the object looked-at, is, in the first in- 
stance, by no means so immediate or exact as it subsequently 
becomes. And, further, it is obvious that if (as seems not im- 
probable) there is some structural arrangement which conduces to 
singleness of vision when the images are thrown on the originally 
corresponding points of the two retinae, such mechanism must 
have developed itself de novo, whenever single vision is the 
result of the habitual conjoint use of two eyes whose axes do not 
converge so as to meet in the object. 

167. A like process of experiential acquirement of Perceptional 
cognitions having the immediateness and trustworthiness of the 
Sensations on which they are based, is demonstrable in regard to 
those notions oiforra which we derive from the Visual sense alone, 
when it has been educated by co-ordination with the Tactile. It 



1 88 Of Pei^ception mid Instinct. 

may now be affirmed with certainty, that Sight originally iufi raia 
us only of what can be represented in a Picture — that is, light and 
shade, and colour ; and it may be affirmed, with equal certainty, 
that the notions of form which we obtain through the sense ?/ 
Touch (when exercised in combination with muscular movements, 
of which the "muscular sense " renders us cognizant) are originally 
unrelated to those derived from Sight ; so that when a blind adult 
first acquires vision, objects with which he (or she) possesses the 
greatesi tactile familiarity, are not recognized by its means, until 
the two sets of Sense-impressions have been co-ordinated by re- 
peated experience. The best evidence of this kind is derived from 
observations made upon persons born blind, to whom sight has 
been communicated by an operation, at a period of life which 
enabled them to give an accurate description of their sensa- 
tions : — 

a. The case long ago recorded by Cheselden still remains one of the 
most interesting of these. The youth (about twelve years of age), 
for some time after tolerably distinct vision had been obtained, saw 
everything flat as in a picture, simply receiving the consciousness of 
the impression made upon his retina ; and it was some time before 
he acquired the power of judging, by his sight, of the real forms and 
distances of the objects around him. An amusing anecdote recorded 
of him, shows the complete want which there is in Man of any 
original or intuitive connection between the ideas formed through 
visual and through tactile sensations. He was well acquainted with 
a Dog and a Cat by feeling, but could not remember their respective 
characters when he saw them ; and one day, when thus puzzled, he 
took up the cat in his arms, and felt her attentively, so as to 
associate the two sets of cognitions, and then, setting her down, said, 
"So puss, I shall know you another time." 

The same indication, moreover, is obviously affi)rded by the case ' f 
Jemmy Morgan already cited (§ 161). — In a recently-recorded case 
in which sight was imparted by an operation to a young woman 
who had been blind from birth, it was interesting to contrast the 



Co-ordination of Visual and Tactile Perceptions. 189 

rapidity and accuracy of her Tactile perception, which was highly 
educated, wi th the slow, laborious process by means of which she 
arrived at a conception of the shape and nature of an object 
Uiroiigh the medium of her newly-acquired and imperfectly-educated 
Vision : — 

6, "I found," says the operator, "that she was never able to ascer- 
tain what an object really was by Sight alone, although she could cor- 
rectly describe its shape and colour ; but that after she had once in- 
structed one sense, through the medium of the other, and compared the 
impressions conveyed by touch and sight, she was ever after able to 
recognise the object without touching it. In this respect her memory 
was very perfect : I never knew her fail in a single instance, though 
I put this power frequently to the test of experiment. It was 
curious to place before her some very familiar object that she had 
never compared in this way, such as a pair of scissors. She would 
describe their shape, colour, glistening metallic character, but would 
fail in ascertaining what they really were, until she put a finger on 
them, when in an instant she would name them, and laugh at her 
own stupidity, as she called it, in not having made them out before." 
— (See Critchett, in Medico -Chirurgical Transactions, vol. xxxviii.) 

168. Still more remarkable is the acquirement of those Percep 
tions of solid form or Relief, which we derive, as Sir C. Wheat- 
stone's admirable investigations have shown, from the Mental 
combination of the dissimilar perspectives that are projected by 
solid objects upon our two retinae. When we bring to our right 
and left eyes respectively, by means of the Stereoscope, pictures 
corresponding to those which would be formed on their two retinje 
by the actual object if placed before them at a moderate distance, 
the resulting perception of the solidity of the image seems as 
necessary and immediate as if it were the product of an original 
Intuition ; and this perception is strong enough to assert itself, in 
spite of our intellectual knowledge that we are looking at two 
plane sm-faces. Now, although it may be inferred from the actions 
of raany of the lower Animals, that the perception of the relative 



I90 Of Perception and Instinct. 



distances of near objects or parts of an object (which constitutes 
the basis of the conception of soHdity) is in their case intuitive, it 
may be affirmed, as a conclusion beyond reasonable doubt, that 
this also is acquired by the Human infant during the earliest 
months of its life, by a co-ordination of its muscular and visual 
sensations ; which enables the automatic mechanism to adopt th?, 
dissimilarity of position between corresponding points in the two 
pictures, as the measure of their relative distances. The self- 
education of this Perceptive faculty which goes on during the first 
few months of infantile life, is the basis of our subsequent Visual 
knowledge of the External World, as it seems to be for the most 
part also of the primary belief in its objective reality (§ 159). 

169. In this Visual recognition of the solid form of an object by 
the mental combination of its two dissimilar perspectives, we have 
an exercise of judgment, the decision of which may be as implicitly 
trusted (at least under ordinary circumstances) as if it were 
authoritatively delivered by a congenital faculty, but which really 
rests on a basis of Experience. It is scarcely conceivable that the 
Infant consciously asks itself the question, " What do I see % " 
But there can be little doubt that, in the earlier stages of its ex- 
perience, it is incapable (like the newly-seeing adult) of distinguish- 
ing between a picture and the solid object which it represents ; and 
that the essential condition of a judgment — the possibility of the 
opposite, or of something else — therefore exists for it. But with 
every consentaneous exercise of the visual, tactile, and muscular 
sensations, during the Infant's gaze at an object grasped in its 
hands and carried to different distances by the motion of its arms, 
there is a new co-ordination, which helps to supply the deficiency 
in the sum of all that preceded ; and this process is repeated 
until the complement of the whole serves as the basis of the 
cognition, which we thenceforth rightly characterize as " self- 
evident." 

170. It is not a little remarkable that even that Visual percej> 



Binocular Perception of Solidity : — Pseitdoscope. 19T 

tion of Solidity, which is based on the Binocular combination of 
dissimilar perspectives, may, under certain circumstances, be 
antagonized by a higher experience, so as to be for a time, or even 
permanently, excluded. The very ingenious Pseudosccpe con- 
ti'ived by Sir C. Wheatstone, effects a lateral reversal cf the 
perspective projections of actual objects on the two retinae, corre« 
sponding to that which would be made by " crossing" the pictures 
in the Stereoscope; and thus, in viewing through it any solid 
object, we ought at once, if the visual perception were a necessary 
product (as Sir David Brewster maintained) of the geometrical 
relations of the two images, to see all its projections and depres- 
sions reversed, — the exterior of a basin, for example^ being changed 
into a concave interior; and the projecting rim on which it rests, 
into a deep furrow. But this " conversion of relief" is generally 
resisted, for a time at least, by the preconception of the actual 
form which is based on habitual experience ; and it only takes place 
immediately, in cases in which the converted form is at least as 
familiar to the mind as the actual form. Thus, when we look with 
the Pseudoscope at the mfmor of a mask, or at ahoUowwow-^c^ofa 
plaster bust, the mental representation of the image in relief is at 
once called-up. But when we look pseudoscopically at the face of 
a plaster bust, or at the outside of a mask, it is only after a 
lengthened gaze that such " conversion of relief" occurs; the mind 
being so much more familiar with the actual form, that the mental 
image of the interior of a mould or mask is not called-up, until the 
visual perception has overcome, as if by continued pressure, the 
resistance of the preconception ; and for this a considerable time is 
often required. In the case of the living human face, however, 
it seems that no protraction of the Pseudoscopic gaze is sufficient 
o bring about a " conversion of relief" ; the perceptive conscious- 
ness (probably here under the complete domination of the 
Intellectual) refusing to entertain the notion of an actual visage 
having the form of the interior of a mask. 
17 



192 Of Perception and Instmci. 

171. The notion of Solidity or projection in three dimensions^ as 
distinct from a representation of an object on a plane surface, may, 
under certain circumstances, be derived from a single flat picture, 
no less strongly than from the combination of the two dis3; milay 
perspectives of the object. It has long been known that if we 
gaze steadily at a picture, whose perspective projection, lights and 
Bhadows, and general arrangement of details, are such as accurately 
correspond with the reality which it represents, the impression it 
produces will be much more vivid when we look with wfie eye 
only, than when we use both ; and that the effect will be fm ther 
heightened, when we carefully shut out the surroundings of the 
picture, by looking through a tube of appropriate size and shape. 
This fact has been commonly account ed-f or in a very erroneous 
manner. " We see more exquisitely," says Lord Bacon, " with 
one eye than with both, because the vital spirits thus unite them- 
selves the more and become the stronger ;" and other writers, 
though in different language, agree with Bacon in attributing the 
result to the concentration of the visual power, when only one eye 
is used. But the fact is, that when we look with both eyes at a 
picture within a moderate distance, we are forced to recognize it as 
a flat surface ; whilst, when we look with only one, our Minds are at 
liberty to be acted-on by the suggestions furnished by the per- 
spective, chiaroscuro, &c. ; so that, after we have gazed for a little 
time, the picture may begin to start into relief, and may even 
come to possess the solidity of a model. The completeness of this 
illusion will essentially depend upon the exactness with which the 
picture represents the real "projection" of its object upon a flat 
surface. It is very rarely that pictures painted by human )ianda 
" come out" after this fashion in a degree at all comparable to sun- 
pictures ; for the obvious reason that the Photograph represents 
not merely the exact perspective of the scene or object, but the 
actual chiaroscuro as it was at any one moment, with a fidelity 
which the Artist, who requires tiTtie for his work, cannot possibly 



MonociUar Perception of Solidity, —Photographs, 1 9 3 

equal, since the shadows on the object are so constantly chai^ging 
as he proceeds, that he can scarcely by any possibility avoid a 
departure from strict truth in his combinations. — The nearest 
approach to sun-pictures in respect to the truthfulness of the 
ehiaroscui-o, is presented by pictures painted by artificial light, tlia 
amformity of which can be maintained while the " sitting '* laslB. 

a. The Writer possesses three Photographs, two of hassi-relievi, and 
one of an alto-relievo, by Lucca della Eobia ; which, when looked 
at with one eye in the manner now described, give rise to a feeling 
of solidity so vivid, that it is almost impossible not to credit it. 

b. As the shadows are strong in all these Photographs, the illusion 
is promoted by causing the light by which they are viewed, to fall on 
them in the direction corresponding to that in which it fell on the 
originals, when (so to speak) they sat to the photographic camera for 
their portraits ; but this is by no means a necessary condition, the 
effect being produced with nearly the same vividness in diffused day- 
light. — If, indeed, a strong li::;ht be seen to proceed from the opposite 
Bide, so that the direction of the shadows in the Photograph is 
reversed with reference to it, a picture may be turned (as it were) 
inside-out, so as no longer to present the relievo, but its hollow 
mould, provided that the Mind ivill readily accept the conversion. 
This effect the Writer can produce most effectively with a beautiful 
Photograph of a large American Trilobite imbedded in its rocky 
matrix ; for according to the direction in which the light is allowed 
to fall upon it, the surface of the back of the Trilobite appears to 
project, or is turned into a concave reverse, representing the " cast " 
of that surface in the surrounding rock, — the effect in either ca.-^e 
being aided by a Mental predetermination as to which view shall be 
seen. 

c. In the beautiful Medallion-engravings (produced by mechanioaJ 
insans) that were in fashion some years ago, the like illusion coulj 
be produced ; the same picture being caused to represent either a 
3ameo or an intaglio, by such a disposition as made its lights and 
shadows correspond with those which would have been thrown from 
the source of illumination, had the rays fallen on an actual cameo or 
an actual intaglio. 

It is remarkable that the effect of this mode of viewing Photo* 



1 94 Of Perception a7id Instinct. 

graphic pictures is not limited to bringing out the solid forms of 
objects ; for other features are thus seen in a manner more true 
to the reality, and therefore more suggestive of it. This may be 
noticed especially with regard to the representation of still waiei\ 
which is generally one of the most unsatisfactory parts of a Photo- 
graph ; for although, when looked at with hoth eyes, its surface 
Rppears opaque, like white wax, a wonderful depth and transparence 
are often given to it by viewing it with only one. — And the same 
holds good also in regard to the characters of surfaces from which light 
is reflected, — as bronze or ivory; the material of the object from 
which the Photograph was taken being recognized much more cer- 
tainly when the picture is looked at with one eye, than when hoth are 
used, unless in stereoscopic combinations. 

172. The superiority of Monocular to Binocular vision depends 
in these cases upon the freedom with which the Mind is left to 
interpret the picture after its own fashion, when no longer forced 
to view it as a flat surface ; and the interpretation is here so 
obviously based on experience, which gives to every incident of 
the picture a suggestive power of its own, as to destroy the force of 
any argument that might be erected on the inmiediateness and 
uniformity of the perception of Relief derived from the binocular 
combination of two dissimilar perspectives, as to the original or 
intuitive character of that perception. For it thus becomes clear 
that this combination is only one out of several modes of suggestion 
by which that notion is formed ; whilst the phenomena of the 
Pseudoscope show that the notion is by no means necessarily called 
up by the visual impressions which ordinarily produce it. 

173. But farther, it is not a little curious that an actual 
conversion of relief may be produced by a Mental preconception, 
when we look at certain solid forms with one eye only. For just 
as the want of power to appreciate distance monocularly, enables 
us to invest a pictorial representation with the attribute of solid 
form, so is a solid form represented to the mind as a flat picture ; 
and to this picture we may mentally give a solid form the very 



Conversion of Relief , 195 

opposite of that which it really possesses. Of this fact, which is of 
no small importance in elucidating the nature of false 'perceptions 
(§ 186), the following are illustrations : — 

a. It has long been known that when a seal is looked-at th^cagh ft 
Microscope, it will appear sometimes projecting as a cameo, some- 
tii.ies excavated as an intaglio; this "conversion of relief" taking 
place alike with the engraven stone or its waxen impression. That 
it is due, not (as some have supposed) to an optical change effected 
by the Microscope, but simply to the limitation of the visual 
impression to a single eye, which deprives the judgment of the 
positive guidance whereon it ordinarily relies, is clearly proved by 
the fact that no such conversion can be produced under a properly 
constructed Binocular Microscope, — a seal, like every other object, 
being represented in its tiue projection ; while it is readily effected 
in regard to larger objects of a suitable nature, without the interven- 
tion of any optical instrument. Thus, as Sir D. Brewster pointed 
out in his " Natural Magic," if we take the intaglio mould of a bas- 
relief, and look steadily on it for a time with one eye, excluding 
surrounding objects as much as possible from our attention, we may 
distinctly see the bas-relief as if projecting. "After a little practice," 
he says, " I have succeeded in raising a complete hollow mask of the 
human face, the size of life, into a projecting head." 

h. If instead of a plaster mould, we take a common pasteboard mask 
(such as is sold in every toy- shop), and paint the inside, which is 
usually left in the rough, so that the colours of its different parts 
may imitate, as closely as possible, those of the corresponding parts 
of its exterior, and the inside or hollow surface of the mask be then 
held at arm's length from the eye, with the light so arranged that 
no shadow falls anywhere upon it, — not only will the image of the 
projecting face very readily present itself, but it will be difficult for 
an observer who has once caught this, to see the mask as it really is, 
even by a determinate effort. The illusion is the more complete, ii 
his view be limited to the mask itself, and he be brought to the 
proper point of sight without being aware of what he is to see ; so 
that, of a large number of persons on whom the Writer has tried this 
experiment, almost all have at once pronounced that they were 
looking at the projecting surface of the mask, and have only been 
convinced to the contrary by the conjoint use of both eyes. 



1 96 Of Perception and Instinct, 



The facility with which these conversions, and others of like 
nature, occur to the " mind's eye," may be readily shown to depend 
upon the degree of readiness with which, in virtue of our previous 
habits and experiences, the visual picture suggests the real ft rm, 
or its conveisa 

c. In the case of a seal, the hollow mould and its projecting cast are 
objects almost equallj- familiar; hence the representation of either 
may offer itself, and the one may be substituted for the other by a 
slight effort of the volitional power of Conception. The conversion 
of the hollow mask into the projecting face is, to most persons, still 
more easy, because they are more accustomed to the life-like features of 
the plaster- model, ^than they are to the concave mould which has no 
similitude in nature ; whilst, on the other hand, the Writer has not 
found it possible to convert the face of a bust into the likeness of a 
hollow mask by the simple monocular gaze, however long continued, 
even with the aid of the strongest effort so to conceive it. — ^'When a 
seal is looked at in a Microscope, or larger objects of the same kind 
are seen through an inverting Telescope, the " conversion of relief" 
is aided by the fact that the optical inversion of the images has 
caused the relation of the shadows to the known source of the light 
to be also reversed, so that they fall as they would do if the cameo 
were really replaced by the intaglio, or the intaglio by the cameo. 

174. Another singularly interesting demonstration of the inabi- 
lity of monocular vision to afford any certainly-true idea of solid 
form, was given by Sir C. Wheatstone in the first of his two re- 
markable memoirs on Binocular Vision : — 

If we hold up at arm's length a small skeleton-cube made of wire 
or ebony-beading, and look at it with one eye whilst placing it in a 
variety of positions by turning it between the fingers, so long as the 
Mind perceives the cube, its various perspective projections arf 
interpreted by it as so many different representations of one object, 
all of them suggesting the same primitive form. But as certain oi 
th«?se perspective projections might be given by an object of very 
different shape, it will probablj'- happen that in some position of the 
cube one of these dissimilar figures will suggest itself to the mind ; 
and, if this new conception be fixed by a steady gaze for a short 



Visual Perception an Act of Jtidgment, 197 

time, it will take such possession of the Mind, that some effort 
ie required to bring back the original conception, so long, that is, as 
the position of the cube remains unchanged. But if, whilst the 
Mind is thus possessed with the false idea, the cube be again made to 
turn between the fingers, the series of successive projections theu 
(resented not being reconcilable with the converse form, either the 
Mind reverts to the original conception of the cube as the only one 
with which they are consistent, or (if this should not be adopted) the 
skeleton- figure seems to be continually undergoing a change of 
shape, as if its sides were hinged together and fell into new inclinations 
with every new position given to the object. — [Fhilosojphical Tram- 
actiom, 1838.) 

175. Thus our Perception of solid form, when only one eje is 
used, is clearly a matter oi judgment, detei-mined by the tendency of 
the Mind to intei-pret the visual picture according to its previous 
familiarity with the forms which that picture may represent : its 
choice between two or more of these being quite involuntary, when 
one is decidedly more familiar to the mind than another ; but 
being to a certain extent under volitional control, when they 
present themselves with equal or nearly equal readiness, through 
the power possessed by the Will of fixing the attention upon either 
one, to the exclusion of the others. — In ordinary Binocular Vision 
of a moderately near object, on the other hand, there is no waver- 
ing; we feel that there can be no mistake. There is but one solid 
form that can furnish the two dissimilar perspective projections. 
Hence that form presents itself to our Minds, independently of any 
previous acquaintance with it, as the necessary resultant of the 
combination of those pictures ; and this is the case even with pairs 
of pictures which differ in a degree that is itself quite inconsistent 
with our experience, provided that the resultant suggested by their 
c< nibination is conformable to our experience. Thus, when we look 
at an actual Landscape, the perspective views we receive through 
the right and left eyes respectively, of every part of it save the 
fore ground, are so nearly the same, as to convey no suggea- 



1 98 Of Perception and Instmct, 

tion of their relative distances; that suggestion being here 
conveyed by other differences, as of size, distinctness, and 
the hke (§ 180). But the two Photographs of such a landscape 
taken for the Stereoscope, represent it as seen from two points 
of view sufficiently remote from each other, to produce that 
degree of dissimilarity in the pictures to which we are accustomed 
in looking at a near object ; and thus the idea of the relative 
distances of the different parts of the landscape, is suggested with 
all the force derived from that difference. So, the Photographs of 
the Moon which are taken at the extremes of her " libration in 
longitude," are sufficiently dissimilar to one another to "pair'* 
in the Stereoscope, and thus to bring out not only the solid form of 
her globe, but even the projection of some of the principal craters, 
with unmistakeable effect. And further, a most striking effect is 
sometimes produced by the Stereoscopic combination of a pair of 
pictures, of which neither by itself suggests any idea of the scene 
it represents. But in all these cases, the result of the combination 
is consistent with our previous experience, or, at any rate, is not 
inconsistent with it. As we intellectually know that the Moon is 
really globular, though her face— as ordinarily seen by us — looks 
flat, we are quite prepared for the acceptance of the suggestion 
made by the Stereoscopic view of it. And when a dark patch upon 
the apparent face of an ice-cliff is carried back stereoscopically to a 
remote distance beyond, we interpret it as representing a far-off 
village seen through an arch in the cliff, — a view readily conceiv 
able by our minds, though we may have never actually seen it. 

176. However different in kind, then, may be the visual data on 
which our ordinary Monocular and Binocular perceptions are based, 
the mental operation by which we build upon them is essentially the 
same in both cases. For the binocular view of an object, like the 
monocular, does nothing else than suggest to the Mind the con- 
ception of a certain solid form; and that the adoption of this 
conception depends much more upon the antecedent condition 0/ 



Estimation of Distance. 199 

the mind, than it does upon the purely ojjtical relations of the two 
retinal pictures, is rendered quite certain (in the Writer's opinion) 
by the application of the pseudoscopic test (§170). For according 
to the theory of intuitive cognition, based on the optical differences 
of the two pictures, every thing at which we look with the Pseudo- 
?oope ought to be at once " turned inside-out." But a large pro- 
portion of the objects on which we try its converting powers, are 
proof against them; those only being TQ2id\{j metamorphoied, whose 
new forms can be readily conceived. And the percipient Mind will 
not admit too strange a novelty ; it obstinately chngs to so much 
of the reality, as is recognized by its previous Tactile experience to 
be the necessary interpretation of the Visual impression ordinarily 
received from the object ; and it can only accept such modifica- 
tions as are capable of being fitted-on to the results of that ex- 
perience. 

177. Our visual recognition of solid form is aided by sugges- 
tions of another kind, which are furnished by that measurement 
of the relative distances of the different points of an object, which 
we make by bringing the axes of the eyes into convergence upon 
those points successively; the degree of such convergence being 
indicated to us by the "muscular sense" that originates in the state 
of the Muscles we put in action to produce it. Here, again, it is 
obvious from what has been already stated, that our interpretation 
of that sensation is acquired, not intuitive ; and it will be presently 
shown that, under certain circumstances, an increase or diminution 
of the angle of convergence rather suggests change of size, than 
change of distance (§ 182). How much of our right estimation of the 
relative distances of objects not far removed from the eye, depends 
npon the conjoint use of both eyes, is made evident by the fact that 
if we close one eye, we find ourselves unable to execute with 
certaiuty any actions which require the guidance of that estima- 
tion, — such as threading a needle, or passing a crooked stick 
ihro'agh a suspended ring. And it has sometimes happened that 



200 Of Perception aiid Instinct 



persons who have lost the sight of one eye, have been first ma da 
aware cf its want by their inability to execute such actions. 

178. It will now be apparent how, when one eye is closed, W9 
lose that power of certainly distinguishing a flat picture from a 
projecting relievo, or either from a concave mould, which we derive 
from the conjoint use of both organs. We can make no mistake 
in oar binocular estimation of such objects, provided their dimeu- 
sions and distances be such as to make their two retinal projections 
appreciably different, and to require a sensible difference in the 
convergence of the optic axes as they are successively directed to 
different points. We are forced to see that a picture is nothing but 
a plane-surface, that the outside of a mask represents the actual 
features of a human face, and that the hollow mould is the concave 
reflex of the cast which has been turned out of it, so long as 
these objects are within a few feet distance, and are seen by both 
eyes at once. And thus it becomes evident that the remarkable 
converting power of monocular vision, by which a single picture 
may be raised into stereoscopic relief, and cameos and intaglios be 
mistaken for each other (§§ 171-173), is — however interesting as a 
Psychological phenomenon — really a mark of imperfection in the 
visual sense when thus exercised. 

179. That such is the true view of the case, appears further 
from this ; that we are liable to be thus deceived in regard to the 
very same objects, even when we look at them with both ayes, 
provided that they are removed to a sufficient distance to render 
the difference of their retinal projections inappreciable, and to 
prevent the relative distances of their parts from being measured 
ih rough the sense of convergence. 

The laige Architectural pictures formerly exhibited in the Diorama 
often gave such an impression of projection, that almost everyone 
who saw them would have been ready to affirm that a particular 
column or statue must have been painted on a different .surface from 
the rest, like a detached part of a scene in a theatre; — until. 



Estimation of Distance and Size, 201 

on slightly moving the head from side to side, the absence of any 
alteration in its apparent position made it evident that it must be on 
the same plane with the adjacent parts. The perplexing vividness of 
this deception was due, as is now well known, to the early possession 
by MM. Daguerre and Niepce of one form of the Photographic 
Rrt ; which enabled them to impart to their architectural pictures a 
truthfulness previously unattainable, and therefore gave to these 
pictures an extraordinary power of suggesting the solid forms of the 
objects they represented.— Many of the apartments in the LouTre are 
decorated with cornices which so vividly represent projecting forms, 
as to be generally mistaken for them by such as see them for the first 
time ; and visitors to the Bourse of Paris will recollect the large 
allegorical paintings in its interior, which are so executed, and so 
disposed, as very strongly to suggest to those who only view them 
from a distance the perception of high relief. 

180. Our estimate of the distance of remote objects is clearly a 
matter of judgment based on experience ; being chiefly founded, 
upon their apparent size, if their actual size be known or guessed ; 
or, if we have no knowledge of this, and our view does not range 
over the intervening space, upon that modification of their distinct- 
ness of colour and outline, which is known to Artists as " aerial 
perspective/' Hence this estimate is liable to be greatly affected 
by varying states of the atmosphere : the same mountain-peak, 
for example, being apparently brought much nearer than it is in 
reality, when an extraordinary clearness of the air enables all its 
features to be distinctly seen ; and earned to a much greater 
apparent distance, when a slight haziness of the air softens them 
all down. Tliis alteration has a very curious effect upon oiir 
appreciation of the sizes of distant objects (§ 181). 

181. Of the relative sizes of objects, our estimate is partly based 
tni the sizes of the pictures formed of them on our retina, or, 
in other words, on the " visual angles " they subtend ; and partly on 
our appreciation of their distances, — the apjjarent size of an object 
flcen under a given visual angle being estimated as larger or 
iwialler than the reality, according as we suppose it to be more or 



2d Of Perception and Instinct. 

leas distant than it really is. Thus the apparent height of moun« 
tains is so greatly affected by our estimate of their dhtance^ 
that, according to the varying atmospheric conditions which 
modify the latter (§ 180), the same mountain may appeal 
much higher or much lower than it really is; its height being 
ttwiier- estimated when the peak is made to seem very near, and 
over-estimated when its apparent distance is exaggerated, — ^just as, 
when we are walking across a common in a fog, a child dimly seen 
tlirougb it seems to have the stature of a man, and a man that of 
a giant. In the case of a near object, however, we are not liable 
to any such error ; since, if we truly appreciate its distance in the 
mode already described (§ 177), the appreciation of its size can be 
derived with certainty from the dimensions of its visual picture. 

182. The appreciation of size, like that of solid form, is a matter 
of immediate judgment : but there is strong evidence that in this, 
as in the preceding case, the power of forming that judgment has 
been acquired by experience. Much light has been thrown upon this 
as upon other phenomena of Binocular Vision, by the ingenious 
experimental researches of Sir Charles Wheatstone. A simple 
modification of his mirror-stereoscope enables the observer to vary 
the distances of the pair of pictures from his eyes, without altering 
the angle of their convergence ; and, conversely, to alter the angle 
of convergence of the optic axes, without altering the distance of the 
pictures. Now in the first case, the perceived dimensions of the 
pictures change — diminishing as their distance increases, and vice 

versd in accordance with the change in the actual dimensions of 

the retinal pictures ; the effect being very much like that of the 
phantasmagoria. But in the second case, a most remarkable 
ciuiuge takes place in the perceived dimensions of the pictures, 
although the actual dimensions of their retinal pictures remain 
Unaltered. For when the optic axes are made to converge upon 
tliiem more and more, as they would do if they were fixed upon a 
Biiigle picture gradually brought very near the eyes, the apparent 



Estimation of Size, 203 



nze of the 'pictures undergoes a most remarkable reduction ; whilst, 
if the arms of the stereoscope are so turned, that the optic axes, 
instead of being moderately convergent, are brought into parallelism, 
or even into slight divergence, the apparent dimensions of tht 
puitures undergo a not less remarkable increase. (Phil. Trans., 1852). 

183. It does not seem possible to account for this fact in any 
other way, than by supposing that the percipient Mechanism haa 
been developed in conformity with the experience gained duiing 
tho early part of Infantile life ; in which objects held in the hand 
ar« brought nearer to, or removed further from, the eyes, the axes of 
which are steadily directed to them at varying angles of conver- 
gence. The identity of the object being recognized throughout, 
the two sets of changes are brought into mutally corrective action ; 
but when either of them takes place without the other, the 
Mechanism evolves a wrong result. If the angle of convergence 
remain unaltered, changes in the size of the retinal images produce 
corresponding changes in the apparent size of the picture ; whilst 
if the size of the retinal image remain unaltered, changes in the 
angle of convergence, acting on the Mechanism in the same 
manner that a change of distance would do, cause (as it were) an 
organic expectation that the size of the retinal image will vary 
accordingly : and, as it does not change, it is instinctively inter- 
preted exactly like the image of a mountain or other distant 
object, which is made to seem larger by an increase, and smaller hj 
a diminution of its apparent distance. — It is a curious illustration 
of the same principle, that if we take up such a position at a 
Railway-station as to see a train approaching " end on," it seems to 
nvdl-out as it approaches our stand-point ; the retinal image 
being rapidly enlarged, without any such corresponding indication of 
diminished distance, as would serve to account (so to speak) to 
our percipient Mechanism for that enlargement. 

184. Every acquired visual Perception, then, may be regarded as 
the resultant of our wliole previous experience relating to the 



204 Of Perception and Instinct. 

object of it ; such resultant, however, not being worked out by a 
process of conscious reasoning, but being the reflex action of 
the nervous Mechanism of the Ego, which has formed itselj in 
accordance with that experience, so as to acquire powers of reaction 
Df a far higher kind than it originaHy possessed. The " self- 
evidence" of the truthfulness of the Perception is of the oan 6 
kind, therefore, as that of the Sensation which has called it forth; 
the Mental affection being in each case the immediate and invariable 
response of the organization to the impression made upon it. But 
whilst that response, in the case of the deliverances of our sensa- 
tional consciousness, is given by our original constitution, it is 
given in the case of our perceptional consciousness by our acquired 
constitution ; in which are embodied those results of primary 
experience, which are common to every normally-constituted 
Human being. 

185. The power of immediate and acute Perception is one 
eminently capable of being increased by habitual Attention. We 
are here concerned not so much with that exaltation of the 
discriminating consciousness of Sense-impressions, which has been 
already noticed (§ 127) ; as with the augmentation of the 
power of taking cognizance of the objects that excite Sensations, 
which depends upon a rapid exercise of that higher faculty by 
which those sensations are interpreted. It would be easy to 
.idduce many examples of the improvement of this faculty by 
practice ; so that individuals who have cultivated it in particular 
modes, derive from ordinary Sense-impressions an amount of 
information which they could scarcely have been supposed capubls 
af conveying. The following, however, will suffice : — 

a. It has long been known that individuals among the Deaf- and* 
Dumb have acquired the power of "lip-reading"; that is, of s/) 
iiiterpreting the visible movements of the mouth and lips of a 
Bpeaker, as to apprehend the words he utters, no less accurately than 
ii' they were heard. And it has been latterly proposed to make this & 



Effects of Attention, 205 



matter of systematic instruction ; so that every deaf-mute should be 
enabled to understand what is said, without the aid of the " sign- 
language" or the "finger-alphabet." — It appears, however, that it 
is not every one who is capable of acquiring this power; and it i? 
Btill questionable whether it can be even generally attained by anj"" 
Jtmount of practice. Eut that it should have been even excejptionally 
acquired, shows the extraordinary improvability of the Perceptive 
faculty. 

h. The celebrated conjuror, Eobert Houdin, relates in his Auto- 
biography the mode in which he prepared himself and his son for the 
performance of the trick which he termed "second sight;" the 
success of it mainly depending upon the rapidity with which the 
information given by Sense-impressions could be apprehended and 
interpreted, and the accuracy with which (for a short time at least) 
they could be remembered : — In the first instance, Houdin put down 
a single domino, and required his son to name the total number of 
points without counting them, which each could readily do. Two 
dominoes were then tried ; and, after a little practice, the total 
number of points on both was correctly named by each at the first glance. 
The next day the lesson was resumed, and they succeeded in naming 
the points on four dominoes at a single glance ; on the following day 
those of six ; and, at length, they found themselves able to give, 
without counting, the sum of the points on twelve dominoes. — This 
result having been attained, they applied themselves to a far more 
difficult task, over which they spent a month. The father and son 
passed rapidly before a toy- shop, or any other displaying a variety 
of wares ; and each cast an attentive glance upon it. A few steps 
further on, each drew paper and pencil from his pocket, and tried 
which could enumerate the greater number of the objects 
momentarily seen in passing. The son surpassed the father in 
quickness of apprehension, being often able to write down forty 
objects, whilst his father could scarcely reach thirty ; yet, on thei/ 
returning to verify his statement, he was rarely found to have made 
a mistake. 

The following remarkable proof of the efficacy of this training 
may be best given in Houdin's own words : — 

c. '* One evening, at a house in the Chaussee d' An tin, and at the end 



.2o6 Of Perception and Instinct. 

of a performance which had been as successful as it was loudly 
applauded, I remembered that while passing through the next room 
t(j the one we were now in, I had begged my son to cast a glance at 
the library, and remember the titles of some of the books, as well as 
the order they were arranged in. No one had noticed this rapid 
examination. 

*' 'To end the second- sight experiment, Sir,' I said to the mastei 
of the house, * I will prove to you that my son can read through « 
wall. Will you lend me a book ? ' 

" I was naturally conducted to the library in question, which T 
pretended now to see for the first time ; and I laid my finger on a 
book. 

" ' Emile,' I said to my son, * what is the name of this work? ' 

'* ' It is Bufibn,' he replied, quickly. 

" *■ And the one by its side ? ' an incredulous spectator hastened to 
aak. 

** * On the right or the left ? ' my son asked. 

*' * On the right,' the speaker said, having a good reason for 
choosing this book, for the lettering was very small. 

"'The Travels of Anacharsis the Younger,' the boy replied. 
* But,' he added, ' had you asked the name of the book on the left. 
Sir, I should have said Lamartine's Poetry ; a little to the right of 
this row, I see Crebillon's works ; below, two volumes of Fleury's 
Memoirs ; ' and my son thus named a dozen books before he 
stopped. 

" The spectators had not said a word during this description, as 
they felt so amazed ; but when the experiment had ended, they all 
complimented us by loud plaudits." — [Autohioyraphy of Robert 
Houdin, p. 206.) 

186. False Perceptions. — It has been shown (§ 148) that tho 
action of ideational states upon the Sensoriiun can modify or even 
produce sensations. But the action of pre-existing states of Mind 
is still more frequently shown in modifying the interpretation 
which we put upon our sense-impressions. For since almost 
every such interpretation is an act oi Judgment based on experience, 
that judgment will vary according to our Mental condition at the 
time it is delivered ; and will be greatly affected by any domi 



False Perceptions, 207 

aant idea or feeling, so as even to occasion a complete mis- 
inl erpretation of the objective source of the sense-impression, 
as often occurs in what is termed "absence of mind" (§ 445). 
Tb3 following case, mentioned by Dr. Tuke as occurring within 
his own knowledge, affords a good example of this fallacy ; — 

a. "A lady was walking one day from Penryn to Falmouth, and hei 
mind being at that time, or recently, occupied by the subject of 
drinking-fountains, thought she saw in the road a newly erected 
fountain, and even distinguished an inscription upon it, namely — 

" |f ang man tijirst, hi ^im come tmto mc anb brink." 

Some time afterwards, she mentioned the fact with pleasure to the 
daughters of a gentleman who was supposed to have erected it. 
They expressed their surprise at her statement, and assured her that 
she must be quite mistaken. Perplexed with the contradiction 
between the testimony of her senses and of those who would have 
been aware of the fact had it been true, and feeling that she could 
not have been deceived (" for seeing is believing "), she repaired to 
the spot, and found to her astonishment that no drinking fountain was 
in existence — only a few scattered stones, which had formed the 
foundation upon which the suggestion of an expectant imagination 
had built the super- structure. The subject having previously 
occupied her attention, these sufficed to form, not only a definite 
erection, but one inscribed by an appropriate motto corresponding to 
the leading idea." — {Influence of the Mind upon the Body, p. 44.) 

So it is mentioned by Sir Walter Scott, in his " Demonology and 
Witchcraft," that having been engaged in reading with much 
interest, soon after the death of Lord Byron, an account of his 
habits and opinions, he was the subject of the following illusion . — 

}>. ** Passing from his sitting-room into the entrance-hall, fitted up 
With the skins of wild beasts, armour, &c., he saw right before him, and 
m a standing posture, the exact representation of his departed friend, 
whose recollection had been so strongly brought to his imagination , 
He stopped, for a single moment, so as to notice the wonderful 
18 



2o8 Of Perception and Instinct. 

accuracy with wlaicli fancy had impressed upon the bodily eye tlse 
peculiarities of dress and posture of the illustrious poet. Sensible, 
ho^^ever, of the delusion, he felt no sentiment save that of worder at 
the extraordinary accuracy of the resemblance ; and stepped onwarda 
towards the figure, which resolved itself, as he approached, into the 
various materials of which it was composed. These were merely &> 
screen occupied by great-coats, shawls, plaids, and such other 
articles as are usually found in a country entrance-hall. Sir Walter 
returned to the spot from which he had seen this product of what 
may be called imagination proper, and tried with all his might to 
recall it by the force of his Will, 'but in vain — a good illustration of 
the slight influence of volition over sensation , compared with that of 
% vivid Mental image or idea acting upon the Sensorial centres, and 
distorting or moulding into other forms the impressions received from 
objects of sense." — (Op. al, p. 45.) 

187. Moreover, if not only a single individual, but several 
persons, should be "possessed" by one and the same idea or 
feeling, the same misinterpretation may be made by all of them ; 
and in such a case the concurrence of their testimony does not 
add the least strength to it. — Of this we have a good example 
in the following occurrence cited by Dr. Tuke as showing the 
influence of a " dominant idea " in falsifying the perceptions of a 
number of persons at once : — 

d. ** During the conflagration at the Crystal Palace in the Winter of 
1866-67, when the animals were destroyed by the fire, it was 
supposed that the Chimpanzee had succeeded in escaping from his 
cage. Attracted to the roof, with this expectation in full force, men 
saw the unhappy animal holding on to it, and writhing in agony to 
get astride one of the iron ribs. It need not be said that its struggles 
were watched by those below with breathless suspense, and, as the 
newspapers informed us, ' with sickening dread.' But there was no 
itnimal whatever there ; and all this feeling was thrown away upon a 
tattered piece of blind, so torn as to resemble, to the eye of fancy, 
the body, arms, and legs of an ape ! " — (Op. cit,, p. 44.) 

Another example of a like influence aff'ecting several individuals 



False Perceptions — Delusions. 209 

simultaneously in a similar manner, is mentioned by Dr. Hibbert 
in his well-known Treatise on Apparitions : — 

'h, A whole ship's company was thrown into the utmost consternatiou, 
by the apparition of a cook who had died a few days before. He waa 
distinctly seen walking a-head of the ship, with a peculiar gait by 
which he was distinguished when alive, through having one of his 
lega shorter than the other. On steering the ship towards the object, 
it was found to be a piece of floating wreck. 

Many similar cases might be referred-to, in which the Imagination 
lias worked-up into " apparitions " some common-place objects, 
which it has invested with attributes derived from the previous 
Mental state of the observer ; and the belief in such an apparition 
as a reality, which usually exists in such cases, unless antagonized 
by an effort of the reason, constitutes a delusion. — The delusions 
of Insanity usually have their origin in a perverted state of feel- 
ing ; which begins by imparting a false colouring to real occur- 
rences ; and then, if not checked or diverted, goes on to suggest 
Ideas having no foundation in fact, which are accepted as realities 
on accoimt of the incapacity of the disordered mind to bring 
them to the test of Common Sense (§ 5G2). And there are 
many persons quite sane upon ordinary matters, and even (it may 
be) distinguished by some special form of ability, who are yet 
affected with what the writer once heard Mr. Carlyle term a 
" diluted Insanity " ; allowing their minds to become so completely 
" possessed " by *' dominant ideas," that their testimony as to 
what they declare themselves to have witnessed — even when 
several individuals concur in giving exactly" the same account 
of it — must be regarded as utterly untrustworthy. Of this 
we have examples at the present time, alike in the asserted 
appearances of the Virgin, and in the marvels of " Spiritualism ; " 
while the same lesson is taught by the records of the prevalent 
delusions of past ages, and pre-eminently by those of Witchcraft. 
188. Instinctive Feelings. — The attaiimaent of that grade of 



2 lO Of Perception and Instinct 

Mental development which enables us to apprehend the objective 
reality of external things, seems to make us capable of experiencing 
certain /ee^^7?^5 in regard to them, which are nearly akin to those 
that are immediately associated with Sensations (§ 154), but 
const itute the germs (so to speak) of higher forms of consciousness. 
Thus the aesthetic sense of the beautiful, of the sublime, of the 
harmonious, &c., seems in its most elementary form to connect 
itself immediately with the Perceptions which arise out of the 
contact of our Minds with external Nature. " All those," says 
Dr. J. D. Morell, " who have shown a remarkable appreciation of 
form and beauty, date their first impressions from a period lying 
far behind the existence of definite ideas or verbal instruction. 
The germs of all their Esthetic impressions manifested themselves, 
first of all, as a spontaneous Feeling or Instinct, which, from the 
earliest dawn of reason, was awakened by the presentation of the 
phenomena which correspond objectively with it in the Universe." 
These primitive feelings exist in very different intensity in dif- 
ferent individuals ; and it is where they have most strongly mani- 
fested themselves at a very early period of life (the sense of 
Harmony, for example, in the infant Mozart, § 206), that we can 
see how fundamental a part of our nature they constitute, although 
they may be but faintly shadowed-forth in a large part of Man- 
kind. They are peculiarly susceptible of development, however, 
by appropriate culture ; under the influence of which they not 
merely grow-up in the individual, but manifest themselves with 
increased vigour and more extended range in successive generatious 
(§§ 201-203). 

189. The same may be said of those simple forms of Emotionul 
sensibility (§ 157), which, being no longer purely subjective, reqainj 
as a condition of their existence that they shall relate to an ex- 
ccinal object. This is pre-eminently the case with all those which 
are termed emotions of s^jmpathy : thus, the Perception of the pair 
or distress of another tends to call forth (except in individuals of a 



p 



Instinctive Feelings. 2\\ 



peculiarly unsympathetic temperament) a corresponding affection 
in the percipient Self; and the opposite state of cheerfulness or 
mirth has a like tendency to affect those who are brought into 
contact with it, provided that there be nothing positively antapy 
nistic in their own condition. But further, the Perception of 
enjoyment in others calls-forth a respondent gladness in ourselves ; 
whilst the perception of suffering tends to excite in ourselves that 
feeling of sorrow which we term pity ; and either of these feelings 
may be experienced, even when we do not ourselves share in the 
slate of elevation or depression which excited them. — More closely 
connected with the foregoing than is commonly conceived, is that 
sense of the humorous, which attaches itself to certain manifesta- 
tions of character pre&ented to us in the actions of others ; that 
sympathy with human nature in which the former have their 
source, being the foundation of the latter also ; and thus it hap- 
pened that those writers who have the strongest power of exciting 
our sense of Humour, are usually distinguished also by their 
mastery of the Pathetic. To the sense of the humorous, that of the 
ludicrous is obviously related. Both these, however, when excited by 
operations of the Intellect, instead of by external objects, belong 
to a different categoiy (§ 404). The same may be said of the 
sense of wonder ; which in its simplest form may be connected with 
our Sense-perceptions, but which is more commonly experienced in 
regard to the Ideas which they excite. — Another group of In- 
stinctive feelings belonging to the same category, is that which may 
receive the general designation of attractions and repulsions. 
These are the elementary states of those Emotions which involve 
a distinct idea of the object which attracts or repels, and which 
then assume the forms of desires and aversions (,§ 261) ; but it is 
in this form that they seem to act in the lower Animals and in 
young Children, whose minds are not yet fully developed into tba 
B'-^age of Ideational consciousness. The various terms like and 
dislike, partiality and distaste, love and hatred, which we use ta 



2 1 2 Of Perception and Instinct 

signify the modes in which we ourselves feel affected by external 
objects, indicate the existence of this elementary form of Emotional 
sensibility in connection with the Perceptive consciousness. — There 
are other Emotional states, some of them rising to the it tensity of 
Passions, which seem to belong to this category ; but the examples 
already cited are sufficient to illustrate the principle, that the elemen- 
tary forms of Emotion belong to the Perceptional stage of con- 
Bciousness. 

190. So, too, there seems to lie in this Perceptional stage of 
Mental activity, the germ which, in a higher phase of development, 
is evolved into the Moral sense. Experience shows, as Dr. J. D. 
Morell justly remarks, " that an Instinctive apprehension of * right ' 
and ' wrong,' as attached to certain actions, precedes in the child 
any distinct comprehension of the language by which we convey 
Moral truths. Moreover, the power and the purity of Moral feeling 
not unfrequently exist even to the highest degree, amongst those 
who never made the question of Morals in any way the object of 
direct thought, and may perchance be unconscious of the treasure 
they possess in their bosoms." Of these elementary Moral feel- 
ings, those of the lower Animals which associate most closely with 
Man are obviously capable. The sense of duty towards a being of 
a higher nature, which shows itself in the actions of the young 
Child towards its Parent or Nurse, long before any Ideational 
comprehension of it can have been attained, is exactly paralleled 
by that of the Dog or the Horse towards its Master. " Man," as 
Bums truly said, " is the God of the Dog." It is the substitution 
of the superior for the inferior directing principle, the distinct 
Intellectual comprehension of it, and the Volitional direction of 
the Attention to it, which constitutes the essential difierertce 
between the most conscientious effort of the enlightened Christian, 
and the honest and self-sacrificing response to his sense of Dnty, 
which is seen in the Horse that falls down dead from exhaustion 
after putting forth his utmost power at the behest of his rider, or 



I 



Instinctive Movements in Man. 213 

In the Dog who uses his utmost skill and intelligence in seeking 
and collecting his master's flock (§ 92). — The elementary form 
of the Religious sense appears to connect itself, not merely with 
that simple apprehension of a Power external to ourselves which 
comes to us from the recognition of its manifestations, but with 
tiiose feelings of Awe and Solemnity which are directly excited by 
objects of sublimity, grandeur, and mystery. Its higher develop- 
ment, however^ requires an Ideational exercise of the Mind ; and 
with this are connected Emotional states of a more elevated 
character (§§ U13— 215). 

191. Instinctive Movements. — It has been already shown that the 
Instinctive actions of the lower Animals may be regarded as con- 
stituting the direct and immediate response of their Nervous 
Mechanism to the impressions made upon it ; and that there is 
reason to believe that, in some instances at least, this mechanism 
has shaped itself in accordance with the manner in which it has 
been habitually called into activity (§§ 84, 93). Now there are, 
perhaps, no movements in Man of a higher character than those 
immediately related to the maintenance of his Organic Functions 
(§ 32), which originally have this character; but there is a very large 
class in which the immediate response comes to be made, in conse- 
quence of the habitual " training " of the Automatic mechanism to 
a certain sequence of movements, under the direction of a certain 
sequence of Sense-perceptions. 

192. One of the most universal of these secondarily automatic 
actions is that of walking erect; for which the whole Hiunan 
organization is so obviously adapted, that it seems probable that 
every Child would acquire the habit proprio motu, without either 
teaching or example. But this acquirement depends upon the 
establishment of a very complicated set of relations between Sense 
perceptions and respondent Muscular contractions ; in virtue of 
which the latter come to be instinctively prompted by the former. 
Thus the effort needed for the mere support of the body ii 



i 1 4 O/ Perception and Instinct, 

ordinarily kept up by the " muscular sense ; " of wliich, indeed, 
wo only become cognizant when our attention is directed to it ; 
but the necessity for which is evidenced by the fact, that if the 
sensory nerve of a limb be paralysed, the contraction of its muscles 
cannot be sustained by the strongest exertion of the Will, unless 
the Sight be used to replace the lost Feeling (§ 80). The existence 
of this partial paralysis may sometimes be recognized by the per- 
sistent looTcing-downwards of those who suffer from it ; for if, whilst 
walking, they were to withdraw their eyes from their feet, their 
legs would at once give way under them. In the ordinary balancing 
of the body, our movements are still prompted in great degree by 
the Muscular sense ; and this is alone sufficient to the blind, as it 
is to the seeing man when walking in the dark. It frequently 
happens, indeed, that Vision, instead of aiding and guiding, 
brings to us sensations of an antagonistic character ; and our 
movements then become uncertain, from the loss of that power of 
control over them, which the harmony of the two sensations 
usually affords. Thus a person unaccustomed to look down 
heights, /ee^s insecui'e at the top of a tower or a precipice, although 
he knows that his body is properly supported ; for the void which 
ae sees below him contradicts (as it were) the Muscular sense by 
which he is made conscious of its due equilibrium. So, again, 
although any one can walk along a narrow plank which forms part 
of the floor of a room, or which is elevated but little above it, 
without the least difficulty, and even without any consciousness of 
effort, yet if that plank be laid across a chasm, the bottom of 
which is so far removed from the eye that the Visual sense girea 
no assistance, even those who have braced their nerves against all 
Emotional distraction, feel that an effort is requisite to maintain 
the equilibrium during their passage over it ; that; effort being 
aided by the withdrawal of the eyes from the depth below, and 
the fixation of them on a point beyond, which at tlie same time 
helps to give steadiness to the movements, and distracts tliG 



Instinctive Movements in Man, 215 

Qijnd from the sense of its danger. On the other hand, the 
Bufficiency of the Muscular sense, when the Mind has no conscious- 
ness of the danger, and when the Visual sense neither affords aid 
nor contributes to distract the attention, is remarkably illustrated 
by thep aenomena of Somnambulism; forthe sleep-walker traverses, 
without the least hesitation, the narrow parapet of a house, 
crosses narrow and insecure planks, clambers roofs, &c. — But how 
soon a new co-ordination of this kind can be acquired, is shown (aa 
Mr. H. Mayo pointed-out) by what happens to a landsman on first 
going to sea. " It is long before the passenger acquires his * sea- 
legs.' At first, as the ship moves, he can hardly keep his feet ; 
the shifting hues of the vessel and surface of the water unsettle 
his Visual stability j the different inclinations of the planks he 
Btands-on, his Muscular sense. In a short time, he learns to 
disregard the shifting images and changing motions, or acquires 
facility in adapting himself (like one on horseback) to the different 
alterations in the line of direction in his frame." And when a 
person who has thus learned by habit to maintain his equilibrium 
on a shifting surface, first treads upon firm ground, he feels 
himself almost as much at fault as he did when he first went to 
sea : and it is only after being some time on shore, that he is able 
to resume his original manner of walking. Indeed, most of those 
who spend the greater part of their time at sea, acquire a peculiar 
gait, which becomes so habitual to them, that they are never able 
to throw it off. 

193. Not less universal, in the ordinarily constituted Human 
being, is some definite form of Vocalization; requiring a very exact 
and complicated co-ordination between the Respiratory movements, 
and those of the Larynx, the Tongue, and the Lips, which ia 
ordinarily directed by the sense of Plearing. This co-ordination ia 
acquired, in the first instance, under the guidance of the Sounda 
actually heard ; but, when subsequently called into action 
volitioually, it depends on the presence of a mental conception 



2 1 6 Of Perception and Instinct. 

(or internal sensation) of the tone to be uttered, — save in those 
cases in which a special training has brought "deaf-mutes" to 
regulate the action of their organs of Speech by the guiding 
sensations originating in the muscles themselves (§ 30). It 
is very rarely that a person who has once enjoyed the sense of 
Hearing, afterwards becomes so completely deaf, as to lose all 
auditory control over his vocal organs. An example of this kind, 
however, was conmiunicated to the public by a well-known Author, 
as having occurred in himself ; and the record of his experiences 
contains many points of much interest : — 

The deafness was the result of an accident occurring in childhood, 
which left him for some time in a state of extreme debility ; and 
when he made the attempt to speak, it was with considerable pain in 
the vocal organs. This pain probably resulted from the unaccustomed 
Muscular effort which it was necessary to make, when the usual guid- 
ance was wanting ; being analogous to the uneasiness we experience 
when we attempt to move our eyes with the lids closed. His voice 
at that time is described as being very similar to that of a person 
born deaf-and-dumb, but who has been taught to speak. "With the 
uneasiness in the use of the vocal organs, was associated an extreme 
mental indisposition to their employment ; and thus, for some years, 
the voice was very little exercised. Circumstances afterwards forced 
it, however, into constant employment ; and great improvement 
subsequently took place in the power of vocalization, evidently by 
attention to the indications of the Muscular sense. It is a curious 
circumstance fully confirming this view, that the words which had 
been in use previously to the supervention of the deafness, were still 
pronounced (such of them, at least, as were kept in employment) aa 
they had been in childhood ; the muscular movements concerned in 
their articulation being still guided by the original Auditory 
conception, in spite of the knowledge derived from the information oi 
others that such pronunciation was erroneous. On the other hand, 
all the words subsequently learned were pronounced according to 
their spoiling ; the acquired associations between the Musculai 
sensations and the written signs being in this case the obvious guide. 
" — (See Dr. Kitto's Lost Senses^ vol. i., chaps. 2, 3.) 



Instinctive Movements in Man, 217 

J 94, The extraordin«'i.ry adaptiveness of the Organism of Man, ia 
shown in his power of acquiring a vast number of more special 
actions, which have no direct relation to his bodily wants, bnt 
minister to requirements of his own creation. These often become, 
by a process of prolonged " training," not less automatic than the 
&ct of walking ; as is shown by the fact that, when once set going, 
they will continue in regular sequence, not only without any 
Volitional exertion, but whilst the Attention ia wholly directed 
elsewhere. Thus a Musical performer will play a piece which has 
become familiar by repetition, whilst carrying on an animated 
conversation, or whilst continuously engrossed by some train of 
deeply interesting thought ; the accustomed sequence of move- 
ments being directly prompted by the sight of the notes, or by the 
remembered succession of the sounds (if the piece is played from 
memory), aided in both cases by the guiding sensations derived 
from the Muscles themselves. But further, a higher degree of 
th 3 same " training " (acting on an Organism specially fitted to 
profit by it) enables an accomplished Pianist to play a difficult 
piece of music at sight ; the movements of the hands and fingers 
following so immediately upon the sight of the notes, that it seems 
impossible to believe that any but the very shortest and most 
direct track can be the channel of the Nervous communication 
through which they are called forth. The following curious 
example of the same class of acquired aptitudes, which differ from 
Instincts only in being prompted to action by the Will, is fiu-nished 
by Robert Houdin : — 

With a view of cultivating the rapidity of visual and tactile Per 
ception, and the precision of respondent Movements, which are 
necessary for success in every kind of "prestidigitation," Houdin early 
practised the art of juggling with balls in the air; and having, after a 
mouth's practice, become thorough master of the art of keeping up 
four balls at once, he placed a book before him, and, while the balla 
were in the air, accustomed himself to read without hesitation. 
"This," he says, " will probably seem to my readers very extraordi* 



2 [8 Of Perception and Instinct, 

nary ; but I shall surprise them still more when I say that T have 
just amused myself with repeating this curious experiment. Though 
thiity years have elapsed since the time I was writing, and though I 
have scarcely once touched my balls during that period, I can still 
manage to read with ease while keeping #Aree balls up." — {Auto- 
hiograjphy, p. 26.) 

This last fact appears to the Writer to be one of peculigjr 
significance, for it seems to justify the conclusion, that even a 
most complex series of actions which essentially depends on 
guiding perceptions, may be performed by the automatic mechanism, 
without any other Volitional action than that which " starts '* it, 
when once this mechanism has been developed by the habitual 
exercise originally imposed on the Nerve-centres by the Will. And 
further, it shows that this mechanism, having been originally so 
shaped at an early 'period of life, is kept up by Nutritive action, 
even though not called into use (§ 276) ; just as the "traces " of 
our early mental acquirements are persistently retained in our 
organism, long after we have lost the conscious Memory of 
them (§ 339). 

195. To the same category as Instinctive movements, may be 
referred those movements of expression, which are automatically 
prompted by states oi feeling connected with the Perceptional con- 
sciousness. These Movements are often more powerfully significant 
than any verbal language can be ; for they convey the immediate 
experiences of the percipient mind, which have not been (and are 
often incapable of being) evolved into ideas, and thence translated 
into words (§ 198) ; and they are immediately or instinctively 
apprehended by other minds. It may be noticed that long before 
Children have attained to any comprehension of verbal language, 
they intuitively interpret the expressions of emotion, and are 
sympathetically affected by them ; as seems the case, too, with 
regard to such of the lower Animals as habitually associate with 
Man, and thus acquire that sympathy with his emotional nature. 



Instinctive Movements in Man. 219 

which enables them to recognize its manifestations. And they 
often reveal the state of Mind of the individual even more trvly 
than his spoken words ; being less under the control of his Will, 
which may use his Speech rather to conceal than to make known 
his thoughts .* 

* The subject of the Movements of Expression being tou large to be bere 
discussed in detail, the reader who seeks further information u^Don it may be 
referred to the recent Treatise of Mr. Darv/in, by whom it is bandied vit.b his 
Qsual ability. 



CHAPTER VI. 

O^ TPFxiTION AND IDEO-MOTOR ACTION. 

k'^kction I. — Of Ideation Generally. 

196. In ascending the scale of Ps^^chical activity, we find the 
operations of the Intelligent Mind becoming more and more 
independent of the Sensorial changes which first excited them. 
It has been shown that in the first or sensational stage, the 
Consciousness is engrossed with self, not bjgrng as yet awake to 
the existence of any external cause for the subjective change it 
experiences ; whilst in the second or perceptive stage, in which 
that objective cause is apprehended as something not-self the Mind 
is entirely given-up to the contemplation of it, and recognizes 
its properties as the sources of the various affections it experiences. 
Some of these affections relate to knowledge^ whilst others partake 
more of the nature of feeling ; but in all of them the percipient 
mind is brought face to face, as it were, with the object per- 
ceived ; and the knowledge which comes to us from this direct 
relation, whether through our original or our acquired intuitions, 
has a certainty to which no other kind of knowledge can lay 
claim. But it is not until the Mind attains a still higher kind 
of activity, that it forms that distinct mental representation, oi 
idea,* of the object, which stands altogether apart from out 

* The Writer does not think it expedient to enter into the inquiry which hsui 
been the subject of so many abstruse and laboured Metaphysical discussions, as to 
Js-hether oiir fundamental Ideas originate altogether without, or altogether within^ 
the Mind ; or partly without, and partly within. It will be sufficient for him to 
express his own conviction, that the latter is the view at which any Psychological 
inquirer must arrive, who looks at the subject from the Physiological side. An 
Idea can no more correctly be designated a "transformed sensation," thr»,n a 
Beusation could be 'lesignated "a transformed impression," or Muscular Oon 



Representative Faczdty : — Language. 221 

Immediate experience, and assumes the character of an inde- 
pendent Intellectual reality. Thus Ideation forms, as it were, 
the climax of that reaction between the external world and the 
intblligent Ego, of which sensation and perception constituted 
the lower stages j and looking at the Gerehrum (as we seero 
justified m doing) as the instrument of that activity, we see how 
its operations, prompted in the first instance by changes in the 
Seusorium, may come to be entirely independent of them, by 
that singular power of recording ideational changes, which con- 
stitutes the Physiological basis of Memory (§ 344). And in all the 
higher intellectual operations, it is by its own ideational activitj^, 
rather than by sensorial promptings, that the further action of 
the Cerebrum is sustained. — In forming these "mental repre- 
sentations," the Mind is determined by the nature and intensity 
of the various afi^ections of its consciousness which have been 
excited by the object ; and as these depend in part upon the 
original constitution of the Cerebrum, and in part upon the 
mode in which its activity has been habitually exercised, it follows 
that the ideas of the same object or occurrence which are formed 
by different individuals, may be widely discrepant. This, indeed, 
continually proves to be the case ; and we cannot have a better' 
example of the fact, than is afiforded by the variety of mode? 
in which the same face or landscape shall be depicted by different 
Artists, each expressing in his peculiar " manner " that represen- 
tation of the object which his Mind has formed. As Carlyle 'law 
well said, " The eye sees what it brings the power to see." 

ti-action could be called a "transformed stimulation." The one is ante»-<edeij4 ; 
tJie other is consequent. Just as an electrical or chemical stimulus, applujj to a 
Miiscle, calls it into contraction, so does the sensational stimulus, acting ou th€' 
Cerebrum, excite the changes which give I'ise to the Ideational form of '-'A:)iiScioa(» . 
ness. On the other hand, to affirm that ideas are either "innate," or are ID any 
waj generated by the mind itself without original excitement by sen.sdtioixt ah 
<zxtra, is a position so entirely inconsistent with experience, as not to bem* any 
tareful scrutiny. —For a concise view of the various doctrines which have beeu 
propounded on this subject, see Dr. J D, Morell's "Elements of Psychology," 
po. 269 et seq. 



2 22 Of Ideation Generally. 

How mucli more the Artist's pencil is guided by his mental than by 
his sensorial view of certain objects, has been recently pointed out by 
Mr. Hamerton, who states it as a fact that every Landscape-painter 
represents mountains much higher than he sees them ; as is shown by 
the comparison of his drawings either with photographs, or with 
tracings taken by a perspective apparatus {Thoughts about Art, 
p. 62). — Another departure from visual truth, for the purpose of 
producing ideal truth, is made by eveiy Artist in his pictorial repre- 
sentation of the perpendicular lines of a building as vertical and 
parallel ; notwithstanding that, as projected upon his retina, they 
converge towards a vanishing point in the sky.* 

197. The influence either of preconceived notions, or of the feel- 
ings by which the Mind is habitually pervaded, may be continually 
recognized by the observant, as modifying the ideas which every 
one forms of what is presented to his observation : and it is 
by an exaggeration of such influences, in such as allow them- 
selves to become " possessed " by " dominant ideas " without 
bringing them to the test of Common Sense, that those ?72W-repre- 
sentations come to be accepted as realities, which have the same 
source as the delusions of Insanity ; diflering from them only in 
their degree of fixity and intensity, and in the kind of influence 
which they exert over the conduct (§§ 187, 561). — This want of con- 
formity between the ideal and the actual is peculiarly apt to arise 
in the minds of those who live too much in the former and too 

* The Writer's statement on this point has been called in question, on the 
ground that a perspective projection on a vertical plane shows perpendicular lines 
as vertical and parallel. But when we are looking at a lofty building, like the 
west front of York Minster, we do not direct our eyes horizontally, but look 
towards a point some way up, so that the retinal plane becomes ohlique ; *nd 
what our visual picture really is under such circumstances, is proved bj the 
unerring test of Photography. For, in taking a picture of a lofty building, the 
1 hotographer tilts his camera upwards, so that the plane of the picture becomes 
oblique ; and in every Photograph thus taken, the perpendiculars of the building 
most unmistakably converge. Now when a pair of such Photographs, taken 
stereoscopically, are so viewed in the Stereoscope that their planes are brought 
into parallelism to that on which they were taken (which is easily done by 
doping the pictures, so that their upper edges are brought nearer to the eye). th« 
perpendicularity of the verticals is restored. 



Representative Facu tty : — L anguage. 223 

.ittie ill the latter; for in proportion as the Mind dwells too 
exclusively upon its own conceptions, and refrains from bringing 
these into contact with the realities of every-day life, do aberra- 
tions which would speedily be checked by experience, progressively 
gnir a preponderating influence, until at last they may acquire 
t-ia character of settled delusions, and may altogether upset the 
balance of the Intellect. 

198. The whole tendency of the Ideational activity of the 
Mind, being thus to separate the ''representation*' formed by 
its.lf, from the restraints of outward experience, so as to 
make it a distinct and intelligible object of contemplation, it is 
requisite for the perfection of this objectifying process, that we 
should possess some mode of signifying our ideas, so that they 
may at the same time be made clear and distinct to ourselves, and 
be rendered intelligible to other minds. This may be accomplished 
by means of signs visible to the eye, or transmissible through the 
touch ; or by means of s'poTcen language^ in which certain combina- 
tions of sounds are made to symbolize ideas. 

The deaf-and-dumb are trained to communicate with each other, 
not merely by the "finger-language," by which words are alpha- 
letically spelled, but also by the " sign-language," by which ideas 
are conveyed through the much more direct medium of single signs. 
These signs, though partly conventional, are made to conform aa 
nearly as possible to the natural expressions of ideas ; and are usually 
acquired very quickly by the deaf-and-dumb, whose want of other 
modes of utterance forces into activity a mode of expressing their 
ideas and emotions, which is unnecessary to those who have the 
command of language, and is consequently but little exercised by 
them. Young Children, however, who associate much with the deaf- 
and-dumb, very readily acquire this sign-language, and will often 
prefer the continued use of it to the acquirement of spoken language. 
— The inquiries of Mr. E. B. Tylor (" Eesearches into the Early 
History of Mankind," chaps, ii., iii.) have shown that the sign- 
language is very generally used among the least civilized Eaces ; and 
that it presents such a remarkable uniformity among different 
10 



224 Of Ideation GejieraUy. 



Families of Mankind, that it must be regarded as the moot natural 
and direct mode iu which ideas can be expressed. 

The range of such signs, however, is necessarily very limited ; and 
every Family of Manliind has substituted for them a set of 
arbitrary sounds, which are not only much more perfect in tiiom- 
selves as instrrments for the expression of ideas, but are capable of 
being made to convey (by means of that wonderful apparatus of 
articulatixm with which Man is provided) an unlimited variety of 
meanings. In proportion as, by inflexion and combination, a 
verbal Language is capable of readily and precisely embodying 
the results of the Intellectual processes, in that proportion can 
these results be objectified by each individual, and be thus made the 
basis of further operations ; and in the same proportion can they 
be clearly presented to the minds of others, and be employed by 
them for the same purpose. Thus whilst the structure of the 
Language of any people is to a certain extent a measure of its 
mental development, it comes to exert a most important influence 
over the further progress and direction of that development ; 
different languages being in their very nature adapted for the 
expression, both of different classes, and of different relations, of 
Ideas, and having very different capacities for further development. 

Some have maintained that Words which are used to designate 
external objects are the signs of those objects, and that such words 
form a class distinct from that of the words which stand as signs of 
abstract ideas. It is true that to the Child first learning the use of 
language, as among the lower Eaces of Mankind, every such noun is 
originally a proper name, standing as the symbol of the individual 
object with which it has become associated. But the Child is very 
early led by the familiar experiences of its nursery, to apply such 
words as chair, table, bed, to classes of objects, and thus to appreciate 
their significance as symbols of generalized or abstract ideas. And 
when that process has been accomplished in a few instances, the 
child's intellect soon extends it to others (its chief activity in this 
stage of its development being directed to the expansion and multi- 



Words the Signs of Ideas. 225 

plication of its ideas) ; and thus — except in the case of proper nmnet 
which are only applicable to individuals — all words come really to 
express generalized representations of the objects to which they refer. 
If, for example, we attempt to define the most familiar object, such 
as a house, a table, or a basket, by any verbal description, we find it 
extremely difficult to frame a definition that shall include all houses, 
all tables, ull baskets ; notwithstanding that our idea of a house, ol 
a table, or of a basket, is sufficiently precise to enable us to say at 
once with regard to any particular object, whether it does, or does not, 
fall under one of these categories. 

Hence Words do not appeal directly to the Intuitions of other 
minds, but must be comprehended by translation through theii* 
Ideational consciousness ; signifying to each one the ideas he 
is prepared by his previous habits of thought to attach to 
them. 

Thus every branch of Knowledge has its own Language, the terms 
of which, even when identical with words in ordinary use, can only 
convey their full and peculiar signification to those who have already 
gained an extensive acquaintance with the department of thought to 
which they relate. So, in rendering from one Language into another, 
great difficulty is continually experienced in the choice of words 
which shall convey in the translation the precise ideas signified in 
the original ; the difficulty being greater in proportion to the diversity 
between the habits of thought of the two nations respectively. We 
can scarcely have a more " pregnant instance " of the obstruction 
thus created to the transmission of ideas through language, by the 
peculiarity of Scientific Terminology, in combination with diversity of 
National habitudes of thought, than is presented in the attempt to 
bring the abstract refinements of German Metaphysics within the 
comprehension of a " common- sense " English mind. 
It is from their purely ideational significance, that, as expressions 
of feeling, w rds are often less potent than tones or gestuius, 
which directly appeal to the emotional sensibility of the Percipient. 
And it is a striking testimony to the correctness of the view tc bo 
hereafter advocated in regard to the composite nature of the 
Emotions (§ 2()0), that they are most strongly excited by langnagt 



2 26 Of Ideation Generally, 

that appeals to theif ideational component, uttered in a U^m^ and 
moMner that calls forth the associated /eeZwi^. 

199. There are certain Ideas which spring up in the &i > ., J 
during the course of its own operations, whenever it att^r^iU .0 
these ; presenting themselves so universally, being so little subject 
to modification by peculiarities of individual character (whether 
original or acquired), and being so unhesitatingly recognized as 
" necessary " Truths, either when they spontaneously occur to 
ourselves, or are presented to our acceptance by others, that they 
take rank as Primary Beliefs, or Fundamental Axioms. Such 
are : — 

I. The belief in oui own present existence, or the faith which we 
repose in the evidence of Consciousness ; this idea being necessarily 
associated with every form and condition of Mental Activity. 

II. The belief in our past existence, and in our personal identity 
BO far as our Memory extends (§ 364); with this, again, is con- 
nected the general Idea of Time. 

III. The belief in the external and independent existence of the 
causes of our Sensations, leading to the recognition of the External 
World as distinct from the Ego ; out of this arises the general idea 
of Space. 

IV. The belief in the existence of an efficient Cause for the changes 
that we witness around us, w^hich springs from the recognition of 
our own conscious agency in the production of such changes ; 
whence is derived our idea of Poiuer. 

V. The belief in the Uniformity of the Order of Nature, or in the 
invariable sequence of similar effects to similar causes, which also 
springs from the perception of external changes, and is the founda- 
tion of all applications of our own experience, or of that of others^ 
to the Conduct of our lives, or to the extension of our Knowledge. 

VI. The belief in our own free ivill, involving the general idea 
of Volitional agency : which is m like manner a direct result of 
our recognition of a self-determining power (§5) within ourselves, 



r 



Origm of Primary Beliefs. 227 

200. Again, those Axioms or first truths upon which the whole 
fabric of Geometry rests (such as " Things which are equal to the 
Baiae thing, are equal to one another"), are statements oi universal 
fact, necessarily true under all circumstances ; which we unhesita- 
tingly accept as such, because any statement inconsistent with them 
would he inconceivable. And so every step of a Mathematical or a 
Logical demonstration, which is based on such fundamental 
axioms, derives its validity from the fact, that either the contrary 
or anything else than the fact asserted is " imthinkable." Where 
each step is thus necessarily true to our Minds, the final Q. E. D. 
carries with it the same authority. So, too, the deliverances of 
our "Common Sense" (§ 378) derive their trustworthiness from 
what we consider the "self-evidence" of the propositions affirmed. 
Hence it is evident that "the only foundation of much of our belief, 
and the only source of much of oar knowledge, is to be found in 
the Constitution of our own Minds." 

201. The origin of these Primary Beliefs is one of the great 
Philosophical problems of our day, which has been discussed by 
Logicians and Metaphysicians of the very highest ability as 
leaders of opposing Schools, with the one result of showing how 
much can be said on each side. — By the Intuitionalists it is 
asserted that the tendency to form them is an intellectual instinct 
inborn in Man, an original part of his Mental organization ; so 
that they grow up spontaneously in his mind as its faculties 
are gradually unfolded and developed, requiring no other ex- 
perience for their genesis, than that which suffices to call these 
faculties into exercise. But by the advocates of the doctrine 
vhich regards Experience as the basis of all our knowledge, it 
id maintained that the primary beliefs of each individual are 
nothing else than generalizations which he forms of such 
experiences as he has either himself acquired, or has consciously 
learred from others ; and they deny that there is any original of 
intuitive tendency to the formation of such beliefs, beyond that 



2 28 Of Ideation Generally, 



which consists in the power of retaining and generalizing 
eipcriences. — A careful study, however, of the manner in which 
*Jiose Beliefs grow-up in our minds, seems to supply a means oiJ 
reconcilement between these opposing doctrines. Even the gonjr* 
Alization of actual experiences requires a certain preparedness xA 
Intellect ; and we can readily trace the growth of this in the Child, 
T^hose mind, like that of the untutored savage, dwells minutely on 
the 'particular, long before any idea of the general occurs to it ; 
w hilst a far higher development is required for it to pass from the 
general to the universal, to extend its conceptions from the ex- 
periential sphere of the actual to the imaginary range of the 
possible. And this development can only take place in a Mind 
which is continually acquiring new experiences; these being aa 
necessary a pabulum to the mental organism, as food is to the 
bodily. But as the growth of the Body and the increase of its 
capabilities are dependent, not on the accumulation, but on the 
assimilation, of the food it has ingested, even so it is not in the 
accumulation of experiences, but in the increase of its capacity to 
deal with them, that the growth of the Mind essentially con- 
sists ; of which capacity one most essential feature is the power of 
direct apprehension of truth. And in view of the many considera- 
tions hereafter to be adduced, no Physiologist can deem it improb- 
able that the Intuitions which we recognise in our own Mental 
constitution have been thus acquired by a process of gradual 
development in the Race, corresponding to that which we trace by 
observation in the Individual. — That the great Master of the 
Kxperiential school, Mr. J. S. Mill, was latterly tending towan'fi 
the acceptance of this view, will hereafter appear (p. 486). 

The doctrine that the Tntellectual and Moral Intuitions of any one 
Generation are the emboditnents in its Mental constitution of the 
experiences of the Race, was first explicitly put forth by Mr. Herbert 
Spencer, in whose Philosophical Treatises it will be found most ably 
developed. But it had been distinctly foreshadowed as regards the 



Origin of Inttdtions. 229 



rnstiucts of animals (which are only lower forms of Man's intel- 
lectual Intuitions) by Sir John Sebright, Mr. T. A. Knight, and M. 
RoTilin ; of whose observations a summary has been given by the Writer 
hi the " Contemporary Eeview," January, 1873. Sir John Sebright 
W'dnt so far as to express it as his decided conviction " that by far 
the greater part of the propensities which are generally supposed to 
l>e instinctive, are not implanted in animals by Nature, but are the 
results of long experience, acquired and accumulated through many 
generations, so as, in the course of time, to assume the characters of 
instinct." And in the Fourth and Fifth Editions of his "Human 
Physiology," published respectively in 1852 and 1855, the Writer 
had distinctly expressed his belief that the Cerebrum of 'M.d.Vi grows-to 
the modes of thought in which it is hahitually exercised ; and that such 
modifications in its structure are transmissiUe hereditarily. (See § 838 
of the Fourth Edition, and §§ 629, 630, of the Fifth Edition.) He 
here refers to this fact, merely to show that the general doctrine 
above enunciated (which he believes to have been held also by 
other Physiologists who had made Psychology their study, such 
as Sir H. Holland, Sir B. Brodie, and Dr. Laycock), is much older 
than Mr. Herbert Spencer. 

202. We have an illustration of this progress in the fact of con- 
tinual occurrence, that Conceptions which prove inadmissible to the 
minds of one generation, in consequence either of their want of 
Intellectual power to apprehend them, or of their pre-occupation by 
older habits of thought, subsequently find a universal acceptance, 
and even come to be approved as " self-evident." Thus the First 
Law of Motion, divined by the genius of Newton, though opposed 
by many Philosophers of his time as contrary to all experience, is 
now accepted by common consent, not merely as a legitimate 
inference from experiment, but as the expression of a necessary 
aiul universal truth. And the same axiomatic value is extended 
to the still more general doctrine, that Energy of any kind, 
v^'hethsr manifested in the "molar" motion of masses, or consisting 
in the "molecular" motion of atoms, must continue under some 
form or other without abatement or decay ; that which all admit Id 



230 



Of Ideation Generally. 



regard to the indestructibility of Matter, being accepted as no less 
true of Force, namely, that as ex nildlo 7iil Jit, so nil Jit ad nihilum* 

203. But, it may be urged, the very conception of these and similar 
great truths is in itself a typical example of Intuition. The meii 
who divined and enunciated them statid out above their fellows, as 
p-)sse8sed of a Genius which could not only combine but create, of 
aa Insight which could clearly discern what Reason could but 
dimly shadow forth. Granting this freely, it may yet be shown that 
the Intuitions of individual Genius are but specially-exalted forma 
of endowments which are the general property of the Race at the 
time> and which have come to be so in virtue of its whole previous 
culture. — This appears readily capable of proof in the case of two 
forms of Mental activity, the tendency to which occasionally mani- 
fests itaolf so remarkably in individuals as a congenital aptitude, that 
it must be considered as embodied in their Constitution ; and which 
are yet so completely the products of culture, that w^e are able to 
trace pretty clearly the history of their development. These are 
the Ideas which relate to Number, and those which relate to 
Music. 

204. There can be no reasonable question that the definite Ideas 
■which we now form of numbers and of the relations of numbers 
are the products of Intellectual operations based on experience. 
There are Savages at the present time, who cannot count beyond 
five ', and even among races that have attained to a considerable 
proficiency in the arts of life, the range of numerical power seems 
extremely low. In Eastern nations generally, it would appear 
that definite conceptions of Number are more limited than th'jir 
language implies ; for in their descriptions of what they havo 
themselves witnessed, they are in the habit of using what to our 



* This is the form in which the doctrine now known as that of the ** Con- 
4ervation of En rgy" was enunciated by Dr. Mayer, in the very remarkabla 
£ssay published by him in 1845, entitled "Die organische Bewegung in ibreis 
Zusaminenhange mit dem StofFwechsel. " 



I: 

I 



NumejHca I Inttdtion, 231 



** matter-of-fact " apprehension are ludicrous exaggerations in 
regard to numbers, altliough these descriptions would probably 
not convey any erroneous ideas to those for whom they were 
intended.* Although the ancient Greeks developed the science 
of Arithmetic up to a certain point, they were incapacitated froi^ 
carrying it further by the clumsiness of their mode of expressing 
large numbers ; which made it necessary for their higher com- 
putations to use symbols borrowed from Geometry — the science of 
Space ; as when they spoke of the square or the cube of a number. 
It was the introduction into Europe, from India, of what we are 
accustomed to call the "Arabic notation," that gave an entirely new 
development to Arithmetical science ; the essential features of this 
notation being the combination of the local value of each of the 
figures representing any number, with the decimal multiplication 
in the value given to them by their position. The science of 
Arithmetic, as at present existing, may be regarded as the 
accumulated product of the intellectual ability of successive 
generations ; each generation building up some addition to the 
hnowledge which it has received from its predecessor. But it can 
scarcely be questioned by any observant person, that an aptitude 
for the apprehension of numerical ideas has come to be embodied 
in the congenital Constitution of races which have long cultivated 
this branch of knowledge ; so that it is far easier to teach Arith- 
metic to the child of an educated stock, than it would be to a 
young Yanco of the Amazons, who, according to La Condamine, 
can count no higher than three, his name for which is Poettarrar- 
orincoaroac. 

205. The most satisfactory evidence of the existence of a 
numerical intuition, or congenital aptitude for recognising the 
relations of Numbers, is furnished by the not un frequent display of 

* A very interesting example of this tendency was presented by the "Journal 
ci Two Parsee Shipbuilders," who visited this country about forty years ago, and 
published their experiences for the benefit of their countrymen. 



2 32 0/ Ideation Generally. 



this faculty among Children ; for, as the Writer is informed by a 
friend who has a large field of observation among Primary Schools 
in which *' mental arithmetic " is cultivated, it often happens th&4 
individuals who have received very little instruction surpass thei« 
fellows in the quickness and accuracy of their replies to numerical 
questions proposed to them, though they cannot be bronght to 
explain the processes by which they have worked-out their 
results. More remarkable instances, however, are presented by the 
occasional display of very extraordinary Arithmetical ability on the 
part of individuals, who, having received very little instruction, have 
not only anticipated, but have gone far beyond, any power derivable 
from instruction, in almost immediately arriving at the answers 
to questions, which, according to ordinary Arithmetical methods, 
w^ould involve long computations of a very elaborate character. 
The case of Zerah Colburn, the son of an American peasant, is 
especially remarkable among these, not only for the immediateness 
and correctness with which he gave the answers to questions re- 
solvable by simple but prolonged computation, — such as the product 
of two numbers, each consisting of two, three, or four figures ; the 
exact number of minutes and seconds in a given period of time ; 
the raising of numbers up to high powers ; or the extraction of the 
square and cube roots ; — but, still more, for his power of at once 
answering questions to which no rules known to Mathematicians 
would apply. It was when the lad was under six years of age, and 
before he had received any instruction either in writing or in 
arithmetic, that he surprised his father by repeating the products 
of several numbers ; and then, on various arithmetical questions 
being proposed to him, by solving them all with facility and 
correctness. Having been brought over to London in 1812, at 
tlie age of eight years, his powers were tested by several eminent 
Mathematicians ; among them Francis Bailv, from whose account 
of him the following examples are selected : — 

He raised any number consisting cf one figure progressively to th« 



Numerical Intuition — Zerah Colburn, 233 

tenth power ; giving the results (by actual multiplication, and not by 
memory) faster than they could he set down in figures by the person 
ap},x)inted to record them. He raised the number 8 progressively to 
the sixteenth power ; and in naming the last result, which consisted of 
tifteen figures, he was right in every one. Some numbers consisting 
of two figures he raised as high as the eighth power; though he 
found a difficulty in proceeding when the products became very 
large. 

On being asked the square root of 106929, he answered 327, hefore 
the original number could be written down. He was then required to 
find the cube root of 268,336,125; and with equal facility and 
promptness he replied 645. 

He was asked how many minutes there are in 48 years ; and before 
the question could be written down, he replied 25,228,800, and im- 
aaediately afterwards he gave the correct number of seconds. 

On being requested to give the factors which would produce the 
number 247483, he immediately named 941 and 263, which are the 
only two numbers from the multiplication of which it would result. 
— On 171395 being proposed, he named 5x34279, 7x24485, 
59x2905, 83x2065, 35x4897, 295x581, and 413x415.— He 
was then asked to give the factors of 36083, but he immediately 
replied that it had none, which is really the case, this being a prime 
number. — Other numbers being proposed to him indiscriminately, he 
always succeeded in giving the correct factors, except in the case of 
prime numbers, which he generally discovered almost as soon as pro- 
posed. The number 4,294,967,297, which is 2^^+l, having been 
given to him, he discovered (as Euler had previously done) that it is 
not the prime number which Permat had supposed it to be, but that 
it is the product of the factors 6,700,417 X 641. The solution of 
this problem was only given after the lapse of some weeks ; bu t 
the method he took to obtain it clearly showed that he had net 
derived his information from any extraneous source. 

When he was asked to multiply together numbers both consisting 
of more than three figures, he seemed to decompose one or both of 
Ihom into its factors, and to work with these separately. Thus, on 
l»eing asked to give the square of 4395, he multiplied 293 by itself, 
and then twice multiplied the product by 15. And on being asked 
to tell the square of 999,999, he obtained the correct result, 



234 Of Ideation Generally. 



999,998, 000,001, by twice multiplying the square of 37037 by 27. 
He tiien of his own accord multiplied that product by 49 ; and said 
that the result (viz. 48,999,902,000,049) was equal to the square 
of 6,999,993. He afterwards multiplied this product by 49 ; and 
observed that the result (viz. 2,400,995,198,002,401) was equal to 
the square of 48,999,951. He was again asked to multiply this pro- 
duct by 25; and in naming the result (viz. 60,024,879,950,06C.025) 
he said that it was equal to the square of 244,999,755. 

On being interrogated as to the method by which he obtained these 
results, the boy constantly declared that he did not know liow the 
answers came into his mind. In the act of multiplying two numbers 
together, and in the raising of powers, it was evident (alike from the 
fact? just stated, and from the motion of his lips) that some operation 
was going forward in his mind ; yet that operation could not (from 
the readiness with which the answers were furnished) have been at 
all allied to the usual modes of procedure, of which, indeed, he was 
entirely ignorant, not being able to perform on paper a simple sum in 
multiplication or division. But in the extraction of roots and in the 
discovery of factors of large numbers, it did not appear that any 
operation could take place : since he gave answers immediately, or 
in a very few seconds, which, according to the ordinary methods, 
would have required very difficult and laborious calculations; 
and prime numbers cannot be recognized as, such by any known 
rule. 

It is remarked by Mr. Baily that the same faculty, improved by- 
cultivation, appears to have been possessed by the illustrious Euler ; 
who had not only a most extraordinary memory for numbers — to 
the extent, it is said, of being able to recall the first six powers of 
any number under 100, — but also a kind of divining power, by 
which " he perceived, almost at a glance, the factors of which his 
formulEe were composed ; the particular system of factors belonging 
t(» the question under consideration ; the various artifices by which 
that system might be simplified and reduced ; and the relation nf 
the several factors to the conditions of the hypothesis." — This power 
of divining truths in advance of existing knowledge, is the special 
attribute of those Mathematicians who have done most for th.« 



Musical Inhdtion : — Mozart. 235 

development of their science. A notable instance of it is furnished 
by the celebrated formula devised by Newton for the solution of 
equations ; for although its correctness was proved experientially 
by the results of its application in every conceivable variety of case, 
its rationale seems to have been unknown to Newton himself, and 
regained a puzzle to succeeding Mathematicians, until discovered 
by the persevering labours of Professor Sylvester, who is himself 
specially distinguished for the possession of this highest form of 
Mathematical genius. — That such a power as Zerah Colburn's 
should exist in a child who had never been taught even the rudi- 
ments of Arithmetic, seems to point (as Mr. Baily remarks) to the 
existence of properties of numbers as yet undiscovered, somewhat 
analogous to those on which the system of Logarithms is based. 
And if, as he grew older, he had become able to make known to 
others the methods by which his results were obtained, a real 
advance in knowledge might have been looked for. But it seems to 
have been the case with him, as with George Bidder and other 
" calculating boys," that with the general culture of the mind, thig 
special power faded away. 

206. The development of the Science and Art oi Music has been 
even more recent. Whatever may have been the advances made 
in early times towards the " scale " of notes which all civilized 
Kaces now accept as the basis alike of Melody and of Harmony, it 
is pretty certain that the ancients cultivated Melody (or the succes- 
sion of notes) exclusively, and that Harmony (or the combination of 
simultaneous tones) is of quite modern origin, the first indications 
of such combination not showing themselves until the Middla 
Ages. It was not, indeed, until the 16th century, that the 
fly stem of counterpoint^ or the arrangement of separate "parts" 
in harmony, was developed ; and although this rapidly attained a 
high degree of perfection, as regards both Vocal and Instrumental 
music, the art of orchestration — that is, the use, either in combina- 
tion ov in contrast, of Instruments of different capacities and 



!3^ Of Ideation Generally 



qualities of tone, so as enormously to increase the range and 
variety of musical effects — is the product of the 16th century. 
Now whilst, as in the case of Number, the Musical science of any 
given period is the general expression of the accumulated knowledge^ 
fcased o»i experience^ of those who had devoted themselves fco its 
culture in previous generations, there have arisen, from time to 
time, individuals in whom there has obviously been not merely a 
congeni'.,al aptitude for the acquirement of the Musical knowledge 
previouk.ly attained, but a power of anticipating, without any 
experience of their own, the results at which their predecessors 
had arrived, and then of creating forms of Musical thought entirely 
new, 'vhich have served as standards or models for those who have * 
com^i after them. — No more remarkable instance of this kind 
could be adduced, than that which is presented by the short but 
brilliant career of Mozart :* and this will also furnish illustrations 
of the spontaneous working of Genius of the highest order, trained 
and disciplined by the most thorough Culture (§§ 232, 400). 

The father of Mozart was not only an excellent performer on the 
violin (for which instrument he produced a Method that was long 
esteemed the best of its kind), but was well skilled in the Theory of 
Music, and wrote in various styles with no inconsiderable success. Of 
his seven children, only two survived the period of infancy ; Anna 
Maria (born Aug. 29, 1751), and Wolfgang (born Jan. 27, 1756), 
who was four years and a half younger than his sister. That the 
girl inherited considerable musical ability, appears from the fact 
that at seven years old she was her father's pupil on the clavier (the 
early form of pianoforte), at which her progress was great and 
uniform ; that when on the musical tour which she made with hei 
brother, her performance was considered only less wonderful than his ; 
and that she finally gained the highest reputation that any female 
performer on a keyed instrument had at that time acquired. She 
BeemSj however, to have been altogether destitute of the inventive 
faculty by which her brother was pre-eminently distinguished. 

• The materials of the following sketch are chiefly derived from the admirt,birf 
"Life of Mozart," oy Edward Holmes, London, 1845. 



Mtisical In hdtion : — Mozai^t, 237 

A.t the time that his sister was commencing clavier practice, 
Wolfgang, then three years old, " was a constant attendant on her 
lessons ; and already showed, by his fondness for striking thirds, and 
pleasing his ear by the discovery of other harmonious intervale, a 
hvely interest in Music. At four he could always retain in memory 
fche brilliant solos in the Concertos which he heard; and now hia 
father began, half in sport, to give him lessons. The musical faculty 
seems to have been intuitive in him ; for in learning to play, he learned 
to compose at the same time : his own nature discovering to him some 
important secrets in melody, rhythm, symmetry, and the art of setting 
a bass. To learn a minuet, he required half an hour, for a longer 
piece an hour ; and having once mastered them, he played them with 
perfect neatness and in exact time. His progress was so great, that 
at four years of age, or earlier, he composed little pieces, which his 
father wrote down for him." From four to six years old, he was 
continually exercising himself in this manner, and acquired great 
experience in design and modulation ; so that there could be no longer 
a doubt of the extraordinary precocity of his Musical genius. 

" His desire of knowledge was great on all subjects ; but in Music 
he astonished his teacher, not so much by an avidity for information, 
as by the impossibility of telling him anj'thing which he did not know 
before. At the age of six years, Mozart knew the effect of sounds as 
represented by notes, and had overcome the difficulty of composing 
unaided by an instrument. Having commenced composition without 
recourse to the clavier, his powers in mental music constantly 
increased, and he soon imagined effects of which the original type 
existed only in his brain." 

An incident which occurred at Wassenburg when the boy, not yet 
eight years old, first tried an organ with pedals, is thus narrated in one 
of his father's letters : — " To amuse ourselves, I explained the pedals 
to Wolfgang. He began immediately dante pede to try them, pushed 
the stool back, and preluded standing and treading the bass, and 
really as if he had practised many months. Every one was aston- 
ished ; this is a new gift of God, which many only attain after much 
labour." This is the more remarkable, as not merely the execution, 
but the style suitable to it, must have been new to the juvenile 
musician, 

When young Mozart was nearly fourteen, his father took hi in to 



238 Of Ideation Generally. 

Italj^ for about sixteen months; and this tour seems to have had a con- 
Biderable influence on his musical development. "In a country which 
was pre-eminently the seat of excellence in the fine arts, and where to 
excite admiration was proportionably difficult, his progress was a per- 
petual ovation. Under these circumstances, his genius was in a state 
of peculiar exaltation ; for sympathy, it is to be observed, was the 
atmosphere of hi 6 artistic existence ; and he could neither play nor com- 
pose to his own satisfaction, without the consciousness of being enjoyed 
and appreciated. But the stamp of his great individuality as a dramatic 
musician was not as yet visible." In his Church music he seems to have 
followed the dictates of his artistic feelings and musical science ; but in 
writing for the Theatre he at first aimed chiefly at gaining success by 
consulting the taste of his audience. — "In reviewing the numerous 
instrumental Compositions of Mozart's youth, we are struck with the 
efl'ort he made to master his ideas. The Q,iiartett and Symphony 
productions of this period show many beautiful thoughts not yet turned 
to due account, but which he resumed and more fully developed in 
subsequent compositions. Thus his memory in after-life became a 
perfect storehouse of melodies and subjects which had long been floating 
n his imagination, and which his exquisite tact and judgment enabled 
him instantly to apply. We find this particularly in his Operas and 
Symphonies." 

It was in 1*780, when Mozart was in his twenty-fifth year, that lio 
produced the Opera of Idomeneo ; the first of that series of great 
Dramatic works, which have retained a permanent place to the pre- 
sent time in the estimation of all true Musicians. Up to this period, 
in attempts at dramatic composition, he had followed existing 
models ; but in " Idomeneo " he asserted his independence of them, 
and developed modes and powers of musical expression, which took 
the most cultivated musicians by surprise, and have ever since been 
accepted as true and appropriate. " Youthful fire and invention," 
Bays Mr. Holmes, " were never so happily tempered by consummate 
esperience." The performers, who had brought tone and facility of 
{execution upon their instruments to great perfection, but had nevei 
been animated by what they played, "were awakened by the magic 
touch of genius to a new life in their art ; they found themselves 
discoursing in an unheard and rapturous language ; and the eff'ect 
upon them was one of intoxication and enchantment." — Though \\ 



MtLsical Intuition : — Mozart, 239 

is usual to assign to Haydn that development of the powers and 
capacities of the different instruments of the Orchestra, which un- 
questionably constitutes the distinguishing feature of the Music of 
this epoch, yet competent critics maintain that the basis of tliis 
development was clearly laid in "Idomeneo," which was produced 
Bsveral years before the great Symphonies of Haydn. The positioD 
to which Mozart was at once raised by its production, as the greatest 
of dramatic composers, was made still more glorious by the immortal 
works that followed it, " Le Nozze di Figaro " and " Don Giovanni : " 
of the former of which it has been said that ' ' while all the comic 
operas coeval with it are lost, not a note of that composition has 
faded, so that when reproduced it still finds as many enthusiastic 
admirers as a Comedy of Shakspere; " while the latter still " stands 
alone in dramatic eminence, combining the labour of the greatest 
melodist, symphonist, and master of dramatic expression ever united 
in the same individual." 

But even these grand works, each of which occupied only a few 
weeks in its composition, constitute only a small part of the pro- 
ductions poured forth from the pen of Mozart, which seemed to be 
an inexhaustible fountain of music of the most varied character. 
There are scarcely any of the '* unconsidered trifles " which he 
briefly gave forth, sometimes as the mere overflowings of his in- 
ventive faculty, that do not bear the stamp of his genius ; while 
every one of those which he purposely elaborated with all the re- 
sources of his art, such as his Quartetts and Quintetts, his Sym- 
phonies, and above all the "Eequiem," would of itself, if it stood alone, 
have marked an era in Musical history. *' These works," it has been 
said, *' show the variety of powers that Mozart brought to composi- 
tion : the great organist and contrapuntist — the profound master of 
harmony and rhythm, are there — but taste and imagination ever 
preside. The quality of these productions can, in fact, only be 
estimated by the attempts which musicians have been making ever 
since to attain some credit in the same path." Like other works in 
advance of their time, however, they were not at fi.rst apprt-ciated. 
The Six Quartetts dedicated to Haydn, for example, — iu which 
Mozart, making use of the constructive skill which he had learned 
from the works of the same kind previously produced by Ais great 
contemporary, advanced beyond him in the invention of n 4w bar- 
20 



240 0/ Ideation Generally. 

monic combinations, — were rejjudiated by many musicians as full ci 
unauthorised innovations ; the Italians, in particular, imputing: to 
mistakes of the engraver what they regarded as grievous blemishes, 
though now accepted as the greatest beauties of these faftcinafcing 
compositions. 

The most remarkable evidence of tne fertility and versatility ol 
Mozart's creative power, is furnished by the closing part of his history. 
It was soon after he commenced the " Zauberflote," that, in an inter- 
Tal of depression which marked the commencement of the malady 
that terminated his life before the attainment of his thirty- sixth year, 
he composed the *' Ave Verum; " a short strain of calm but elevated 
devotion, which has nowhere its equal for its combination of expres- 
sive beauty, religious feeling, and scientific bkill. He then resumed 
the *' Zauberflote," and had nearly finished it, when he undertook 
the **Eequiem;" having, as he told his wife, a desire to produce a 
work in which he could develope the elevated and the pathetic in 
Church music to the highest degree. The " Zauberflote " was put 
aside, and the "Eequiem" was begun; but he had not proceeded 
far, when his further progress was interrupted by a commission to 
compose the opera "La Clemenza di Tito" for the Coronation of 
the Emperor Leopold at Prague ; and though this was completed 
within the wonderfully short space of eighteen days, he astonished his 
friends at whose house he was staying, by also producing the beautiful 
Quintett in the first act of the "Zauberflote," the subject of which 
had come into his mind while he was playing a game of billiard Sj 
and had been at once noted down in a memorandum-book of " musical 
ideas " which he carried with him. On his return to Yienna, he com- 
pleted and produced the "Zauberflote;" and then, while stricken 
down by mortal disease, resumed the " Eequiem," which he did not 
live entirely to complete, but in which, according to the judgment of 
all cultivated Musicians, there is a more wonderful combination of 
sublimity with pathetic beauty, than is to be found in any othel 
Ecclesiastical composition, whether of earlier or later date. 

207. In each of the foregoing cases, then, we have a iypif-a.1 
example of the posses -ion of an extraordinai y congenital aptitiida 
for certain iorms of Mental activity ; which showed itself at t-u 
early a period as to exclude the notion that it could have been 



OiHgin of hituitions. 241 

acquired by the experience of the individual ; and which, in tin 
case of Mozart, led its possessor far beyond the accumul tted 
experience of his predecessors. To such congenital gifts we give 
the name of Intuitions-, and it can scarcely be questioned thst^ 
like the Instincts of the lower Animals, they are the expressions of 
constitutional tendencies embodied in the organism of the indi- 
viduals who manifest them. But whilst extraordinary in degree^ 
they were not so in Icind ; for Zerah Colburn's faculty for numbers 
only placed him on the level of those who had previously attained 
the same results ; and the creations of Mozart's genius, even when 
'hey passed the previous boundaries of musical thought, were 
loon appreciated by those who had already reached them. And it 
)an scarcely be conceived that a Zerah Colburn could suddenly 
arise in a race of savages who cannot count above five ; or that an 
infant Mozart could be born amongst a tribe, whose only musical 
instrument is a tom-tom, whose only song is a monotonous chant. 

208. Again, by tracing the gradual genesis of some of those 
Intellectual Ideas which we now accept as " self-evident,'* — such, 
for example, as that of the "Uniformity of Nature" — we are able 
to recognize them as the expressions of certain tendencies, which 
have progressively augmented in force in successive generations, 
and now manifest themselves as Mental Instincts that pene- 
trate and direct our ordinary course of thought (§ 199). Such 
instincts constitute a precious heritage, which has been trans- 
mitted to us with ever-increasing value through the long succession 
of preceding generations ; and which it is for us to transmit to 
those who shall come after us, with all that further increase whicli 
our higher culture and wider range of knowledge can impart. 

209. In a similar light we are prob bly to rank those elementiiry 
notions of Truth, Beauty, and Right, which present themselves to 
our consciousness in connection with certain Ideational conditions 
respectively adapted to excite them ; the first being associated 
especially with the operations of the Reason, the second with tls m 



242 Of Ideation Genei^ally, 



of the Imagination as directed by the Esthetic sense, and the 
third with the determination of the Will in the regulation ol' 
conduct under the guidance of the Moral sense. — Truth may be 
defined to be an apprehension of the relations of things as they 
actually exist; and the conception of Truth, which is originally 
based upon Sensational Ideas, comes to be also applied to those 
which are purely Intellectual. — The notion of Beauty, the germ 
of which, as we have seen (§ 188), exists in the Perceptive con- 
sciousness, is one that is very difficult to define ; but it seems to 
consist, when fully developed, in the conformity of an external object 
to a certain ideal standard, by which conformity a pleasurable feel- 
ing is produced. That ideal standard is a work of the Imagination, 
and is generated (by a kind of automatic process, § 412) by the 
elimination of all those elements which we recognize as inferior, 
and by the ntensification and completion of all those which we 
regard as excellent. Hence according to the ^Esthetic judgment 
which every individual pronounces as to these particulars, will be 
his ideal of Beauty ; and although this judgment is subject to so 
wide a variation, that the uselessness of disputing about matters 
of Taste has become proverbial, yet a gradual approximation to 
agreement shows itself among those who are distinguished by the 
possession of a high measure of the Esthetic sense, and who have 
cultivated it by the intelligent study of what, by common consent, 
are regarded as the noblest works of art. In fact, it is from the 
careful scrutiny of the products of the highest Genius (§ 409), 
that the rules, of art, alike m Poetry and Music, in Painting and 
Sculpture, are derived. The notion of Beauty extends itself also 
to the pure conceptions of the Intellect ; and thus we may exn^- 
rience the sense of Beauty in the recognition of a Truth. We 
experience the sense of Beauty, too, in witnessing the conformity of 
conduct to a high standard of Moral excellence ; which excites in 
our minds a pleasure of the same order as that which wo derive 
from the contemplation of a noble work of Art. — The notion <.A 



Nature of Moral Sense. 243 

Rlglit, which is purely Ideational, connects itself with Voluntary 
action. We have no feelino- of approval or disapproval with respect 
to actions that are necessarily connected with our Physical well- 
he i rig ; but ia regard to most of those which are left to our choice^ t 
'\& impossible to feel indifferent ; and the sphere of operation 
I'jf this principle becomes widened, in proportion as the mind 
ij, wells upon the notion of Moral obligation which arises out 
of it. Then, too, the idea of Right is brought to attach itself 
to thoughts as well as to actions; and this, not merely because the 
right regulation of the thoughts is perceived to be essential to 
the right regulation cf the conduct, but also because whatever 
we can govern by the Will may present itself to "-he Mind in a 
Moral aspect. 

210. It has been usually considered by Moralists and Theologians, 
that Conscience^ or the Moral sense^ is an " autocratic " faculty, 
wliich unmistakeably dictates what is right in each individual 
case, and which should consequently be unhesitatingly obeyed as 
the supreme and unerring guide. ISTow this view of the case is 
attended with practical difficulties, which make it surprising that 
it can ever have been entertained. For it must be obvious to 
every one who carefully considers the matter, that whilst a notion 
of right as distinguished from wrong, attaching itself to certain 
actions, is as much a part of the Moral nature of every individual, 
as the feeling of pleasure or pain attaching itself to certain states 
of consciousness is of his Sensational nature, yet the determina- 
tion of what is right, and what is wrong, is a matter in great 
degree dependent upon race, education, habits of thought, con- 
ventional associations, &c. ; so that the Moral standard of no 
two men shall be precisely alike, while the moral standards of men 
brought up under entirely different circumstances shall be of the 
most opposite nature. (Without having recourse, for an illustra- 
tion of this position, to the strange estimates of right and wrong 
irhich prevail amongst Savage nations, it may be sufficient to 



244 Of Ideation Generally. 

refer to the dififerent views which used to be conscientiously enter- 
tained on the question of Slavery, by high-minded, estimable, 
and Christian men and women in different parts of the American 
rnijn.) Moreover, in what have been designated as "cases of 
If juscience,'' the most enlightened Moralist may have a difficullj 
hi deciding what is the right course of action, simply because the 
Moral sense finds so much to approve on both sides, that it 
cannot assign a preponderance to either. Thus, individuals in 
whose characters the love of truth and oi justice and the benevolent 
affections are the prominent features, and who would shrink with 
hoiTor from any violation of these principles of action for any selfish 
purpose whatever, are sorely perplexed when they are brought 
into collision with each other ; a strong motive to tell a falsehood 
(for example) being presented by the desire to protect a defenceless 
fellow-creature from unmerited oppression or death. 

211. It is evident, then, that the determination of what is right and 
what is wrong in any individual case, must be a matter oi judgment ; 
the rule of Moral action being based on a comparison of the 
relative nobility of the motives which impel us to either course, 
and being decided by the preference which is accorded to one 
motive or combination of motives above another. As Mr. Martineau 
has well said,* "Every Moral judgment is relative; and involves a 
comparison of (at least) two terms. When we praise what has 
been done, it is with the co -existent conception of something else that 
might have been done ; and when we resolve on a course as right, 
it is to the exclusion of some other that is wrong'* If it be asked, 
how are the relative values of these motives to be decided, th"t< 
answer must be sought in the Moral consciousness of Mankind 
in general ; which is found to be more and more accordant Jn this 
respect, the more faithfully it is interpreted, the more habitually 
it is ac ted-on, and the more the whole Intelligence is expanded 
and enlightened. — It is this tendency towards universal agree 
• " Prospective lleview " for November, 1845, pp. 587-9. 



Moi^al Responsibility, 245 



fiient, which shows tliat there is really as good a foundation for 
M-ial Science in the Psychical nature of Man, as there is for that 
of Music in the pleasure which he derives fiom certain com- 
b illations and successions of Souuds. 

212. On the other hand, as we cannot attach any Moral character 
K ^ the actions of Animals that are performed under the direction 
of a blind undiscerning Instinct, leaving them no choice between 
one course and another, neither can we attach it to those which are 
esecuted by Human beings, even when possessed of their full 
Intelligence, who are dominated by impulses which they have 
it not in their power to restrain (§ 264) ; nor, again, to those 
performed by individuals whose Moral sense has either been 
never awakened, or has been so completely misdirected by early 
education, that their standard of right and wrong is altogether 
opposite to that which the enlightened Conscience of Mankind 
agrees in adopting (§ 8). But, although there are doubtless 
many cases in which Criminal actions are committed under the 
impulse of passions (such as anger, lust, &c.) which the individual 
has not at the moment the power to control, so that he must be 
absolved from Moral responsibility quoad the immediate impulses 
to those particular actions, yet these impulses too frequently derive 
all their force from the habit of yielding to their promptings in 
lesser matters, which gradually gives them a *• dominance," such as 
the Will (weakened by want of exercise in the habit of self- 
restraint) is unable to resist (§ 287). Hence the Criminal dctwn is 
to be regarded as but the expression of a long previous course of 
Criminal tliought, for which, in so far as he could have otherwise 
directed it, the individual may legitimately be held responsible, — 
just as he is for actions committed in the state of Intoxication, in 
which he has temporarily lost, by his own voluntary act, the 
power of self-control. 

213. Closely connected with many of the foregoing Tendencies to 
Thought, and arising in most minds from some or other of them 



246 Of Ideation Generally. 

by the very nature of our Psychical constitution, are those Ideas 
which relate to the Being and Attributes of the Deity. There iS;, 
in fact, no part of man's Psychical nature, which does not speak to 
liim, when it is rightly questioned, of something beyond and above 
h '.mself. The very perception of finite existence, whether in Time 
or Space leads to the idea of the Infinite. The perception of 
de-pendent existence leads to the idea of the Self-existent. The 
perception of change ill the Universe around leads to the idea of 
an unseen Power as its cause. The perception of the order and 
constancy underlying all those diversities which the surface of 
Nature presents, leads to the idea of the Unity of that power. 
The recognition of Intelligent Will as the source of the power we 
ourselves exert, leads to the idea of a like Will as operating in the 
[Tniverse. And our own capacity for Reasoning, which we know 
not to have been obtained by our individual exertions, is a direct 
testimony to the Intelligence of the Being who implanted it. — So 
are we led from the very existence of our Moral feelings, to the 
conception of the existence of attributes, the same in kind, how- 
ever exalted in degree, in the Divine Being. The sense of Truth 
implies its actual existence in a being who is Himself its source 
and centre ; and the longing for a yet higher measure of it, which 
■ is experienced in the greatest force by those who have already 
attained the truest and widest view, is the testimony of our own 
souls to the Truth of the Divine Nature. The perception of Right, 
m liko manner, leads us to the Absolute lawgiver w^ho implanted 
it in our constitution ; and, as has been well remarked, " all the 
sippeals of innocence against unrighteous force are appeals to 
eternal justice, and all the visions of moral purity are glimpses of the 
infinite excellence." The aspirations of the more exalted Moral 
natures after a yet higher state of holiness and purity (§ 97), can 
only be satisfied by the contemplation of such perfection as 
no merely Human being has ever attained ; and it is only in 
thj contemplation of the Divine Ideal that they meet their 



Moral and Religiotcs Ideas, 247 

appropriate object. And the sentiment of Beauty, especially as 
it rises from the material to the spiritual, passes beyond the 
noblest creations of Art and the most perfect realization of it 
in the outward life, and soars into the region of the Unseen, where 
kloiie the Imagination can freely expand itself in the contemplation 
Df such beauty as no objective representation can embody. — And it 
is by combining, so far as our capacity will admit, the ideas 
wliich we thus djrive from reflection upon the facts of our own 
conscijusuess with those which we draw from the contemplation 
of the Universe around us, that we form the justest conception of 
the Divine Being of which our finite minds are capable. We are 
led to conceive of Him as the absolute, unchangeable, self- 
existent, — infinite in duration, — illimitable in space, — the highest 
ideal of Truth, Right, and Beauty, — the all-Powerful source 
of that agency which we recognize in the phenomena of Nature, — 
the all- Wise designer of that wondrous plan, whose original 
perfection is the real source of the uniformity and harmony 
which we recognise in its operation, — the all-Benevolent contriver 
of the happiness of His sentient creatures, — the all-Just disposer 
of events in the Moral world, for the evolution of the ultimate 
ends for which Man was called into existence. In proportion to 
the elevation of our own spiritual nature, and the harmonious 
development of its several tendencies, will be the elevation and 
harmoniousness of our conception of the Divine; and in proportion, 
moie particularly, as we succeed in raising ourselves towards that 
ideal of perfection which has been graciously presented to us in 
the "well-beloved Son of God," are the relations of the Divine 
Nature to our own felt to be more intimate. And it is fiom the 
wnsciousness of our relation to God, as His creatures, as His 
cliildren, and as independent but responsible fellow- workers with 
Him in accomplishing His great purposes, that all those ideas and 
sentiments arise, which are designated as Religious, and which 
constitute that most exalted portion of our nature. 



248 Of Ideation Generally, 

214. The pervading consciousness of that relation expresses itself 
in the notion of Duty ; which attaches itself to every actior as to 
v\luch the Ego may believe that the Divine Will has been expressed. 
But the dictates of this sense will vary with the ideas enteitained 
ref>pecting the Divine character and requirements ; and actiooa 
may be sincerely regarded as an acceptable sacrifice by one class of 
religionists, which are loathed as barbarous and detestable by 
another. Moreover, the difficulty which attends the determination 
of what is Morally right (§ 210), often occurs in regard to Religious 
duty ; each of two or more possible modes of action being recom- 
mended by its conformity to the Divine law on certain points, whilst 
it seems opposed tc it on others. 

Thus if a man who might be urged to conceal a Political refugee 
in immediate danger of capture, were to refuse to do so merely on. 
the fear of unpleasant consequences to himself, he would be justly 
branded with the character of a cold-hearted coward ; but if his 
refusal should proceed from the conviction that the Divine Law 
requires the preference of rigid Truthfulness over every other motive, 
and that, by concealing the suppliant, he should be forced into a 
violation of that law, he cannot be blamed even by those who believe 
that the Law of Compassion *' written upon our hearts " is at least 
equally imperative. — Similar difficulties beset the upholders of the 
non-resistance creed, which teaches that love is the all-powerful 
principle in the Moral world, and that it should entirely supersede all 
those lower impulses of our nature which lead us to oppose force to 
force, and to resist an unjust and unprovoked assault. Here, again, 
we might readily understand and sympathise-with those, who consider 
that the fear of personal suffering does not warrant our doing a 
severe injury to another in warding-off a threatened attack ; but 
when the question comes to be, not of seZ/-defence, but of protection 
to ethers who are helpless dependents upon our succour, and who are 
bound to us by the closest ties of natural affection, we feel that tho 
soinparative nobility of the latter motive warrants actions which oui- 
ii 'dividual peril might scarcely justify. 

215- But as in Morals, so in Religion, does it become incijeasingly 



Succession of Ideas, 249 

ol)vious, that the more elevated are the ideas of Mankind in regard 
to the character and will of the Deity, the more do they approach 
to a general accordance in regard to what constitutes Religious 
duty ; and the complete coincidence which is thus found to exist 
between the dictates of the Christian law and the highest principles 
of pure Morality, should prevent one set of motives from ever 
coming into antagonism with the other. — The Conscience of the 
religious man, indeed, may be said to be the resultant of the 
combination of his Moral sense with the idea of Duty which arises 
out of his sense of relation to the Deity. With the former are 
closely associated all those emotions and dispositions, which render 
him considerate of the welfare of his fellow-men, as of his own ; and 
with the notion of duty to God are closely united the desire of His 
favour, the fear of His displeasure, the aspiration after His perfec- 
tion, all which act like other motives in deciding the Will. Their 
relative force on any occasion, as compared with that of the lower 
propensities and sensual desires, greatly depends on the degree 
in which they are hahitually brought to influence the mind ; and it 
is in its power of fixing the attention on those higher considera- 
tions which ought to be paramount to all others, and of withdrawing 
it from the lower, that the Will has the chief influence in the direction 
of the conduct according to the dictates of virtue (Chap. IX.), 



Section 2. — Succession of Ideas : — Laws of ThowjLt 

216. The conscious Mind, when not engrossed in Sensational or 
Perceptive acts, is incessantly occupied in thinking, with or without 
the accompaniment oi feeling ; its whole inner life hemg a successioH 
of ideas and emotions, only suspended by Sleep and Death, or 
interrupted by the concentration of its attention on Sense- 
impressions. Now whatever diff'erence of opinion there may be 
in regard to the degree in which the ordinary Laws of Causation 
ore applicable to Mental phenomena (in other words, as to how ffd* 



250 



Succession of Ideas. 



each state of consciousness may be considered as determined by 
its antecedents), all are agreed that there are certain " I^aws 
3f Thought," expressive of the uniformities of succession "which 
are observable in Mankind in general ; whilst there are others 
^^ hich are characteristic of Races and Individuals ; arising either 
from peculiarities in original constitution, or from the special 
direction which its congenital activities have acquired, or from 
both combined It is not so much, however, the presence or 
absence of particular attributes, as their proportional development^ 
that differentiate Minds from one another ; and it is the habitual 
predominance (whether original or acquired) of particular sequences 
of thought and feeling, determined by that proportion, which 
constitutes the Character of each race or individual. Thus we 
find the Intellectual character to consist in the predominance of 
certain Faculties, which, as we shall presently see, are only 
designations of particular modes of intellectual activity ; and a 
knowledge of these enables us to predicate, to a certain extent, 
the nature of the result at which any individual Mind will arrive, 
by its exercise upon a given subject previously thought-out by 
others. So, again, the Moral character will depend upon the 
relative predominance which may exist in the individual nature, of 
those Emotional tendencies, which not merely furnish a large 
share of the governing motives of the conduct, but which also 
contribute in a very important measure to the habitual direction 
of the thoughts : and in proportion to the completeness of our 
knowledge of the Moral character of any individual, will be 
our power of predicting the manner in which he will act under 
any particular contingency. 

2 17. But these uniformities of succession are predicable only of the 
automatic activity of the Mind : and our own consciousness tells 
us that there is something in our Psychical nature, which is beyond 
und above this automatic exercise of our powers ; and that the 
direction of our thoughts is placed, within certain limits, undei 



Laws of A ssociation, 2 5 t 

the control of the Will (§ 25). These limits, like those of the 
automatic activities, are partly universal, and partly peculiai 
to the individual. It is a universal fact that the Will cannci 
originate anything ; but that it has a power of selecting any one 
out of several objects thatpresent themselves either simultaneously 
or successively before the mental vision, and of so limiting and 
intendfying the impression which that particular object makes 
upon the consciousness, that all others shall be (for the time) 
non-existent to it. On the other hand, the degree in which this 
Volitional power is possessed by different individuals, is subject 
to wide variation. In some it is weak from the beginning, and no 
training seems effectual in developing it to a degree of full 
efficiency. In others it shows itself very early in a " masteiful " 
disposition, which aims to bring others imder subjection to itself; 
and here the aim of the Educator should be to cultivate nelf- 
mastery, by showing how much nobler is " he that ruleth his 
spirit, than he that taketh a city." It often happens, however, 
that strong passions are mistaken for strong Will ; and that an 
entirely wrong method of discipline is adopted with a view to 
" break the Child's will," when what is really needed is to direct its 
Mental action aright (§ 120). Not unfrequently a strong Volitional 
power originally exists, but lies dormant for want of being called 
into exercise (§ 8) ; and here it is that judicious training can 
work its greatest wonders. 

218. Laws of Association. — The most powerful agency in tlie 
automatic determination of the succession of our Mental states, i? 
undoubtedly that tendency which exists in all minds that have 
attained the ideational stage of development, to the association of 
ideas ; that is, to the formation of such a connection between two 
or more Ideas, that the presence of one tends to bring the other 
also before the consciousness, — or, in other words, that the one 
suggests the other. Certain Laws of Association, expressive of 
the conditions under which this connection is formed, and the 



2.52 



Succession of Ideas, 



mode in which it acts, have been formularized by Psychologists ; * 
of these the most important will be now specified. 

219. Two cr more states of consciousness, habitually existing 
together or in immediate succession, tend to cohere, so that the 
future occurrence of any one of them restores or revives the 
other ; this is designated the law of contiguity. It is thus (to 
take a simple illastration) that the impressions made upon our 
Sensational consciousness by natural objects, which are usually 
received through two or more senses at once, become compacted into 
those composite notions, which, however simple they may appear, 
really result from the intimate combination of many distinct 
states, of ideation. Thus our notion of the form of an object 
is made-up of separate notions derived from the visual and 
muscular senses respectively ; our notion of the character of its 
surface^ from the combination of impressions received through the 
visual and tactile senses ; and with both of these our notion of 
colour, as in the case of an orange, may be so blended, that we do 
not readily conceive of its characteristic form and surface, without 
also having before our minds the hue with which these have been 
always associated in our experience. So, again, the external 
aspect of a body suggests to our minds its internal arrangement 
and qualities, such as we have before found them invariably to be ; 
thus, to use the preceding illustration, the shape and colour of the 
orange bring before our consciousness its fragrant odour and agree- 
able taste, as well as the internal structure of the fruit. And our 
idea of " an orange " must be considered as the aggregate of all 
the preceding notions. — Not only the different ideas excited by one 
object, but those called«^up by objects entirely dissimilar, may tlnis 
eome to be associated, provided that the mind has been accustomtJ 



• In the writings of Prof. Bain will be found the fullest and ablest exposition 
•yet given of the Laws of Association, with copious illustrations of their operation 
drawn from a great variety of Mental phenomena, by which the Writer ha« 
profited in the outline here given. 



Association by Contiguity, 253 

to the presentation of tliem in frequent contiguity one with 
the other. Such conjunctions may be natural, that is, they may 
arise out of the " order of nature ; " or they may be artificial, 
being due to human arrangements ; all that is requisite is, thiit 
Ihey should have sufficient permanence and constancy to habituata 
our minds to the association. — Of this Law of Contiguity, more- 
over, we have a most important example in the association which 
the mind early learns to form between successive eventSj so that 
when the first has been followed by the second a sufficient number 
of timastoformthe association, the occurrence of the first suggests 
the idea of the second ; if that idea be verified by its occurrence, a 
definite expectation is formed; and if that expectation be un- 
failingly realized, the idea acquires the strength of a belief. And 
thus it is that we come to acquire that part of the notion of "cause 
and eff"ect," which rests upon the " invariability of sequence ; " 
and to form our fundamental conception of the "uniformity of 
nature" (§ 199, v). It is by the same kind of operation, again, 
that we come to employ Words as the symbols of ideas, for the 
convenience of intercommunication and reference (§ 198) ; a certain 
number of repetitions of the sound, concurrently with the sight of 
the object, or the suggestion of the notion of that object, being suf- 
ficient to establish the required relation in our minds. — Of the large 
share which this kind of action has in the operations of Memory 
and Recollection, evidence will be hereafter given (Chap. X). 

220. But a not less important tendency of thought, and one 
whose operation is even more concerned in all the higher exercises 
of our Reason, is that which may be designated the law of simi- 
larity ; and which expresses the general fact that any present 
state of consciousness tends to revive previous states which 
are similar to it. It is thus that we instinctively invest a new 
object with the attributes we have come to recognise in one we 
have previously examined, if the new object bears such a resem* 
blance \o it, that the sio-htof the second suggests those ideas which. 



2 54 Succession oj Ideas, 

onr minds have connected with the first. Thus, we will suppose a 
man to have once seen and eaten an orange ; when he sees an 
orange a second time, although it may be somewhat larger or 
smaller, somewhat rougher or smoother, somewhat lighter or darkcT 
in hue, he recognizes it as " an orange," and mentally assigns to it 
the fragrance and sweetish acidity of the one which he had 
previously eaten. But if, instead of being yellow, the fruit were 
green, he would doubt its being an orange ; and if assured that 
it still was, but had not come tO' maturity, he would no longer 
expect to find it sweet ; the notion of acidity being suggested to 
his mind by his previous experience of other green and unripe 
fruit. — It is in virtue of this kind of action, that we extend those 
elementary notions which are primarily excited by sensation, to 
new objects. Thus, the idea of roundness (like other notions of 
form) is originally based on the combination of the tactile and 
visual sensations, and must be first acquired by a process of con- 
Biderable complexity; but when once derived from the examina- 
tion of a single object, it is readily extended to other objects of 
the same character. — So, again, it is by the operation of this mental 
tendency, that we recognize similarity where it exists in the midst 
of diff'erence, and separate the points of agreement from those of 
discordance ; and this, again, not merely as regards objects which 
are before our consciousness at the same time or in close succes- 
sion, but also with regard to all past states of consciousness. It is 
thus that we identify and compare, that we lay the foundations of 
classification, and that we recover all past impressions which have 
anything in common with our present state of consciousness. — The 
intensity of this tendency, and the habitual direction which it 
takes, vary extremely in different individuals. Some have so great 
an incapacity for recognizing similarity, that they can only perceive 
it when it is in marked prominence, their minds taking much 
stronger note of differences ; whilst others have a strong bias for 
the detection of resemblances and analogies, and discover tliein 



Association by Similarity, 255 

where ordinary minds cannot recognize them. Some, again, 
address themselves to tlie discovery of similarity among objects of 
uense, whilst others sti-dy only those ideas which are the objects 
of onr internal consciou;mess ; and it is in the detection of what ia 
essentially similar among the latter, that all the higher operations 
of the Intellect essentially consist. Even here we find that some 
are contented with superficial analogies, whilst others are not 
satisfied until they have penetrated by analysis to the depths of the 
subject, and are able to compare its "fundamental idea" with 
others of like kind. — It raay be remarked that this mode of action 
of the mind is in some degree opposed to the preceding; for whilst 
mntiguity leads to the arranging of ideas as they happen to present 
themselves in actual juxtaposition, and thus to induce a routine 
which is often most unmeaning (§ 285), similarity breaks through 
juxtaposition, and brings together from all quarters objects which 
have an Ideational likeness. 

221. It is this habit of mind, which is of essential value in all 
the sciences of classification and induction. Thus, in the formation 
of generic definitions to include the characters which a niimber of 
objects have in common, their subordinate or specific differences 
being for a time left out of view, we are entirely guided by the 
recognition of similancy between the objects we are arranging; and 
the same is the case in the formation of all the higher groups of 
Families, Orders, and Classes, the points of similarity becoming 
fewer and fewer as we proceed to the more comprehensive groups, 
whilst those of difference increase in corresponding proportion. 
The sagacity of the Naturalist is shown in the selection of the 
best points of resemblance, as the foundation of his Classifir.ation ; 
the value of characters being determined, on the one hand by 
their constancy, and on the other by their degree of coincidence 
with important features of general organization or of physiological 
histoiy. — In the determination of Physical laws by the process of 
Induction, the process is somewhat of the same kind; but the 
21 



256 



Succession of Ideas. 



Bimilarities with which we have here to jio, are not, as in the 
preceding case, objective resemblances, but exist only among our 
subjective ideas of the nature and causes of the phenomena brought 
under our consideration. Thus, there in no obvious relatiou 
between the fall of a stone to the Earthj a,nd the motion of I be 
Moon in an elliptical orbit around it ; but ^he penetrating mind of 
Newton detected a relation of common causation between these two 
phenomena, which enabled him to express them both under one 
Law. It was by a like Intellectual perception of similarity, that 
Franklin was led to determine the identity of lightning with the 
spark from an electrical machine. And i^. would be easy to show 
that it has been in their extraordinary development of this power 
of recognizing causative similarity, leading to a kind of intuitive 
perception of its existence, where no adequate ground could be 
assigned by the Reason for such a relationship, that those men 
have been eminent, who have done the most to advance Science by 
the process of inductive generalization.' 

222. The same kind of Mental activity is also exercised in the 
contrary direction : namely, in that application of general laws to 
particular instances, which constitutes deductive reasoning ; and in 
that extension of generic definitions to new objects, which takes 
place upon every discovery of a new species. We may trace it, 
again, even in the extension of the meaning of words so as to 
become applicable to new orders of ideas, in consequence of the 
resemblances felt to exist between the latter and the ideas of 
which the words were previously the symbols ; — as in the aippli ca- 
tion of the word '' head," which primarily designated the most 
elevated part of the human body, in such phrases as the " head of 
a house," the " head of a state," the " head of an army," the " head 
of a mob," in each of which the idea of superiority and command 
is involved ; — or in the phrases the '' heads of a discourse," or the 
"heads of an argument," in which we still trace the idea of 
authority or direction ; — or in the phrases the " head of a 



Association by Similarity. 257 

table/' the "head of a river/' in which the idea of superi- 
ority or origin comes to be locally applied; — or in the "head of 
a bed/' or " head of a coffin/' in which we have the more 
distinct local association with the position of the head of Man. 
Of the foregoing applications (the presence of which in Lan- 
guages of entirely different families indicates their origin in wide 
spread identities of modes of thought), those first cited belong to 
the nature of a meta'phor, which has been defined to be " a simile 
comprised in a word ;" and the judicious use of metaphors, which 
frequently adds force as well as ornamental variety to the diction, 
is most seen amongst those who possess a great power of bringing 
together the like in the midst of the unlike. 

223. Every effort, in fact, to trace-out unity, consistency, and 
harmony, in the midst of the wonderful and (at first sight) per- 
plexing variety of objects and phenomena amidst which we are 
placed, is a manifestation of this tendency of the Human mind : 
and, when conducted in accordance with the highest teachings of 
the intellect, or guided by that insight which in some minds 
supersedes and anticipates all reasoning, it enables us to rise to- 
wards the comprehension of that great Idea of the Universe, 
which we believe to exist in the Divine Mind in a majestic 
simplicity of which we can here but faintly conceive, and of which 
all the phenomena of Nature are but the manifestations to our 
consciousness. — With this purely Intellectual operation, there is 
frequently associated a peculiar feeling of pleasure, which consti- 
tutes a true Emotional state. There are few who devote them- 
selves to the pursuit of Science, who do not experience this 
pleasure, either from the detection of new relations of similarity 
by their own perception of them, or in the recognition of them as 
developed by others. It is, however, much more intense in some 
miixds than in others ; and according to its intensity, will it act aa 
a motive in the prosecution of the search for Truth amidst dis 
oouragements and difficulties. But all discoveries of idenlificf^ 



258 Succession of Ideas, 

tion, where use and wont are suddenly broken through, and a 
common feature is discerned among objects previously looked-on 
as entirely different, produce a flash of agreeable surprise, and the 
kind of sparkling cheerfulness that arises from the sudden lighteii- 
ing of the burden. And it is in this, that our enjoyment oit^l 
seems eissentially to consist (§ 402). 

224. Although the single relations established between ideas, 
either through Contiguity or through Similarity, may suffice for 
their mutual connection, yet that connection becomes much 
stronger when two or more such relations exist consentaneously. 
Thus, if there be present to our minds two states of consciousness, 
each of them associated, either by contiguity or similarity, with 
some third state that is past and '^ out of mind " at the time, the 
compound action is more effective than either action would be 
separately ; that is, although the suggestions might be separately 
too weak to revive the past state of consciousness, they reproduce 
it by acting together. Of this, which has been termed the law of 
compound association, we have examples continually occurring to 
us in the phenomena of Memory ; but it is especially brought into 
operation in the volitional act of Recollection (§ 372). 

225. Another mode in which the Associative tendency operates, 
is in the formation of aggregate conceptions of things that have 
never been brought before our consciousness by sense-impres- 
sions. This faculty, which has been termed constructive associa- 
tix)n, is the foundation of Imagination (§ 396) ; and it is 
exercised in every other mental operation in which we pass from 
the known to the unknown. When we attempt to form a con^ep^ 
tion which shall differ from one that we have already experienced, 
Wi 5, matter of objective reality, by the introduction of only a single 
new element, — as when we imagine a brick building replaced by 
one of stone, in every respect similar as to size and form, — we 
substitute in our minds the idea of stone for that of brick, and 
associate it by the principle of contiguity with those other ideas, 



Constructive A ssociation. 259 

of which that of the whole building is an aggregate. So, again, if 
we conceive a known building transferred from its actual site to 
Bome other already known to us, we dissociate the existing com- 
binations, and keep- together the ideas which were previously 
separated, until their contiguity has so intimately united them, 
that the picture of the supposed combination may present itself 
to the mind exactly as if it had been a real scene which we had 
long and familiarly known. By a further extension of the same 
power, we may conceive the elements to be varied, as well as the 
mode of their combination ; and thus we may bring before our 
consciousness a representation in which no particular has ever been 
present to our minds under any similar relations, and which is, 
therefore, entirely new to us as a whole, notwithstanding that, when 
we decompose it into its ultimate elements, we shall find that each 
of these has been previously before our consciousness. Such a 
representation, by being continually dwelt-on, may come to have 
all the force and vividness of one derived from an actual sensory 
impression ; and we can scarcely conceive but that the actual state 
of the Sensorium itself must be the same in both cases, though 
this state is induced in the one case by an act of mind, and in the 
other by objective impressions (§ 100). — A very common modus 
operandi of this " constructive association," is the realization of a 
landscape, a figure, or a countenance, from a pictorial representa- 
tion of it. Every picture must be essentially defective in some of 
the attributes of the original, as, for example, in the representation 
of the projection of objects ; and all, therefore, that the picture can 
do, is to suggest to the mind an idea, which it completes for itself 
by this constructive process, so as to form an aggregate which may 
or may not bear a resemblance to the original, according to the 
fid el it}- oi the picture, and the mode in which it acts upon tlie 
mind of the individual. Thus, a mere sketch shall convey to one 
person a much more accurate notion of the object represented, 
than a more finished picture shall give to another ; because from 



26o Sticcession of Ideas. 



practice in this kind of mental reconstruction, the former recog- 
nizes the true meaning of the sketch, and fills it up in his " mind's 
eye ; " whilst the latter can see little but what is actually 3efore 
his bodily vision, and interprets as a literal presentation that which 
\^ is intended merely as a suggestion. And it is now general!) 
admitted, that in all the higher forms of representatiye Art, the 
aim should be, not to call into exercise the faculty of mere objec- 
tive realization, but to address that higher power of idealization, 
which invests the conception suggested by the representation 
with attributes more exalted than those actually possessed by the 
original, yet not inconsistent with them. It depends, however, 
as much on the mind of the individual addressed, as on that of the 
Artist himself, whether such conceptions shall be formed ; since by 
those who do not possess this power, the highest work of Art is 
only appreciated, in so far as it enables them to realize the object 
which it may represent. 

226. Having thus pointed out what may be considered the most 
elementary forms of Mental action, we shall briefly pass in review 
those more complex operations which may be regarded as in great 
part compounded of them. The capacity for performing these ia 
known as the Intellect or the reasoning power ; and the capacities 
for those various forms of intellectual activity, which it is con- 
venient to distinguish for the sake of making ourselves more fully 
acquainted with them, are termed "intellectual faculties." It 
appears to the Writer, however, to be a fundamental error to 
suppose, that the entire Intellect can be split-up inlo a certain 
number of faculties ; for each faculty that is iistinguished by t lie 
Psychologist, expresses nothing else than a mode of activity/ in 
« hich the whole power of the Mind may be engaged at once, — ^just 
as the whole power of the locomotive steam-engine may be em- 
ployed in carrying its load forwards or backwards, according to the 
direction given to its action. It is the direction of the attention to 
external objects, for example, that constitutes the " faculty " ofobser 



Ac^s of Reaso7ting. 261 

vation ; which is simply that form of activity, in which the Mind ia 
uccupied by the Sense-impressions it is receiving, either from, a 
number of sources at once, or from a more hmited area, the im- 
\ ressions in the latter case being proportionally intensified (§ 123). 
l)n the other hand, it is the direction of our attention to what is 
passing within us, — not merely intensifying the Mental state, but 
separating and bringing it forward as an object of contemplation, 
— which is designated as reflection, but is more appropriately 
termed introspection. In each of these the whole Mind maj be so 
completely engaged, that the two activities cannot go on simul- 
taneously (§ 117). So, again, in that reproduction of past states 
of consciousness which we term memory, and, still more in that 
volitional recall of them which constitutes recollection, we have 
the whole mind at work in certain definite sequences expressed 
by the "laws of association." 

227. Upon the various Ideational states, which are either directly 
excited by Sense-impressions, or are reproduced by Memory, and 
are sequentially connected in " trains of thought " by suggestions 
"rising out of pre-formed associations, all acts of Reasoning are 
founded. These consist, for the most part, in the aggregation and 
collocation of ideas, the decomposition of complex ideas into more 
simple ones, and the combination of simple ideas into general 
expressions ; in which processes are exercised the faculty of 
comparison, by which the relations and connections of ideas 
are perceived, — that of abstraction, by which we mentally isolate 
from the rest any particular quality of the object of our thought, 
— and that of generalization, by which we recognize the common 
properties we have abstracted, as composing a distinct notion, that 
jf some genus in which the objects are comprehended. These 
operations, when carefully analyzed, seem capable of reduction to 
this one expression, — namely, the fixation of our Attention either 
on some particular classes of ideas, from among those which sug- 
gestion brings before our consciousness, or on some particular 



262 StLccessiofi of Ideas, 

relations of those ideas ; and this fixation may depend, as already 
shown, either on the peculiar attractiveness which these ideas or 
relations have for us (the constitution of individual minds varying 
greatly in this respect), or on the determination of our Dwn Will. 
A 11 these faculties are exercised in the act of judgment ;• which is 
a summary expression of the entire process — how simple or how 
complex soever — by which we arrive at a decision either as to the 
absolute or probable truth or falsehood of any proposition, or 
as to the moral or prudential bearing of any course of action. 
— There is strong reason to believe that these processes may 
be performed automatically to a very considerable extent, without 
any other than a permissive act of Will. It is clearly by such 
automatic action, that the before-mentioned "fundamental axioms" 
or "secondary'' intuitions" (§ 199) are evolved; and there is not 
one of the operations above described which may not be performed 
quite involuntarily, especially by an individual who is naturally 
disposed to it. Thus, to some persons, the tendency to compare 
any new object of consciousness with objects that have been 
previously before the mind, is so strong as to be almost irresistible ; 
and this, or any other original tendency, is strengthened by the 
habit of acting in conformity with it. So, again, the tendency to 
abstract is equally strong in the minds of others, who instinctively 
seek to separate what is fundamental and essential in the proper- 
ties of objects, from what is superficial and accidental ; and their 
attention being most attracted by the former, they readily 
recognize the same characters elsewhere, and are thus as prone tc 
combine and generalize, as others are to analyse and distinguish 
228. It is only, in fact, when we intentionally divert the current 
of tliought from the direction in which it was previously running, 
— when we determine to put our minds in operation in some parti- 
cular manner, — and make a choice oj means adapted to our end (as 
in the act of recollection (§ 370), by purposely fixing our attention 
upon one class of objects to the exclusion of others, — that we can be 



Automatic Activity and Volitional Control. 263 

said to use the Will in our intellectual processes ; and this exercise 
of it is shown, by the analysis of our own consciousness, to be losa 
cons .'■ant than is commonly supposed. Thus we may imagine a 
man sittino:-down at a fixed hour every day, to write a treatise 
upon a suoject ivhich he has previously thought-out: after that 
first effort of Will by which his determination was made, the daily 
continuance of his task becomes so habitual to him, that no fresh 
exertion of it is required to bring him to his desk ; and, unless he feel 
unfit for his work, or some other object of interest tempt him away 
from it, so that he is called-upon to decide between contending 
motives, his will cannot be fairly said to be brought into exercise. 
It may need, perhaps, some Volitional fixation of his attention 
upon the topics upon which he had been engaged when he last 
dropped the thread, to enable him to recover it, so as to commence 
his new labours in continuity with the preceding ; but when once 
his mind is fairly engrossed with the subject, this developes itself 
before his consciousness according to his previous habits of mental 
action j ideas follow one another in rapid and continuous succes- 
sion, clothe themselves in words, and prompt the movements 
by which those words are expressed in writing; and this 
automatic action may continue uninterruptedly for hours (§ 236 a), 
without any tendency of the mind to wander from its subject, 
the Will being only called into play when the feeling of fatigue 
or the distraction of other objects renders it difficult to keep the 
attention fixed upon that which has previously held it by its own 
attractive power (§ 315). — The converse of this condition is expe- 
rienced, when some powerful interest tends to draw-ofi" the attention 
elsewhere, and the thoughts are found to wander continually from 
the subject in hand; or when, from the undue protraction of mental 
exertion, the physical condition is such, that the thoughts no 
longer develope themselves consecutively, nor shape themselves 
into appropriate forms of expression. In either of these cases^ 
the Intellectual powers can only be kept in action upon the 



264 Succession of Ideas. 

pre-determined subject, by a strong effort of the will : of this 
effort we are conscious at the time, and feel that we need to put 
forth even a greater power than that which would be required to 
generate a large amount of physical force through the muscular 
system ; and we subsequently experience the results of it, in the 
feeling of excessive fatigue which always follows any such exertion 
229. The more carefully the actions of early Childhood are ob- 
served, the more obvious does it become that they are solely 
prompted by ideas and feelings which automatically succeed one 
another, in uncontrolled accordance with the laws of suggestion. 
This principle has already been referred to (§ 120) ; but the following 
illustrations of it, which show that a Child very early comes to 
adapt the expression of its wants, or the communication of its 
ideas, to the receptivity of the person addressed, — and this not 
by intention, but in accordance with an acquired intuiti(m based 
on its everyday experience, — may be here appropriately intro- 
duced : — 

a. Dr. Kitto, whose experience of entire loss of the sense of Hearing 
has formed the subject of a very interesting Autobiography, tells ua 
that his children, in their successive infancies, would begin to imitate 
the finger-language whenever they saw him, even whilst they were yet 
in arms, and could have had no true cognizance of his peculiar 
condition. — [The Lost Senses, vol. i., p. 97.) 

b. The following case, originally recorded by Dr. C. B. Radcliffe, 
has been found by the subsequent enquiries of the Writer to be one of 
very common occurrence. — A child of English parents residing in 
Germany, being under the care of a German nurse, had acquired 
the 2^ower of speaking on ordinary matters either in German or 
English, without confusing the words or idioms ; but yet seemed 
invariably compelled to reply in the language used by the person he 
was addressing. Thus, in conveying a message to his German nurse, 
he delivered it in German, though he had received it the moment 
previously in English ; but on returning to the English family in the 
parlour, if asked what the maid had said, he answered in English 
as often as the question was proposed in English ; and even though 



Automatic Activity of Childhood. 265 

pressed to give the words he had heard in the nursery, he still 
continued to do the same, without seeming to be aware of the 
difference. But if the question was put to him in German, the 
answer was in German ; there being the same inability to reply 
in English, as there had previously been to give a German answer to 
Ihe English question. — {^PMlosopliy of Vital Motion, p. 137). 

c. In another instance known tr the Writer, the child of a Erench 
father resident in England, and of an English-speaking mother, •t?'Lo 
was growing-up to speak to his father in French and to his mother 
in English, was taken by his father to spend the summer in Switzer- 
land, where he never heaid anything but Erench spoken, and for 
several weeks himself spoke Erench exclusively. One day, as the 
father and child were walking together, they met some English 
friends, who addressed the boy in English, but could get no reply 
from him, though he answered them at once in Erench when they 
spoke to him in that language. The father feared that the boy had 
already lost his mother tongue; but on returning home the lad 
at once found it again, telliag hia mother in English of all that 
had happened to him abroad. 

These two cases, though in some respects dissimilar, are obviously 
referable to the same principle ; for the result was determined in 
each by the automatic action of the Mind, in accordance with the 
laws of association. In the former case, the language of each 
answer was suggested by that in which the question was put ; 
whilst in the latter, it was determined in the first instance by the 
last acquired habit, and in the second by the recurrence of the 
circumstances under Avhich the original habit had been formed. 
230. Even in the adult, the predominance of the automatic 
activity of the Mind over that which is regulated by the will^ is often 
B( eu as a result of a want of balance between the two; arising either 
from the excessive /orce of the former, or from the unusual wea/mess 
ol the latter. We have au example of it in the loose rambling talk 
of persons who have never schooled themselves to the maintenance 
of a coherent train of thought, but are perpetually " flying off in 
Sk tangent," — sometimes at a mere sensorial suggestion (conveyod 



266 StLccessioii of Ideas, 



by the sound or the visual conception of a word), sometimes at the 
prompting of an ideational association of a most irrelevant kind. 
A most truthful portraiture of a low type of this order of mind is 
presented in the " Mrs. Nickleby" of Dickens : while, in real life, 
we have had a most striking exemplification of its most exalted 
form in Coleridge, whose talk was just as disjointed as Mrs, 
Nickleb}"'s though relating to the highest instead of the most 
trivial sabjects. His career, indeed, affords so remarkable a 
"study" to the Psychologist who takes as his guiding idea the 
relation between automatic activity and volitional direction, that i he 
principal features of it will be here brought under review. 

231. There was probably no man of his time, or perhaps of any 
time, who surpassed Coleridge in the combination of the reasoning 
powers of the Philosopher with the imagination of the Poet and 
tlie inspiration of the Seer; and there was perhaps not one of the 
last generation, who has left so strong an impress of himself in the 
subsequent course of thought of reflective minds CDgaged in the 
highest subjects of human contemplation. And yet there was 
probably never a man endowed with such remarkable gifts, who 
accomplished so little that was worthy of them, — the great defect 
of his character being the want of Will to turn his gifts to account ; 
so that, with numerous gigantic projects constantly floating in his 
mind, he never brought himself even seriously to attempt to execute 
any one of them. It used to be said of him, that whenever either 
natural obligation or voluntary undertaking made it his duty to do 
anything, the fact seemed a sufiicient reason for his not doing it. 
Thus, at the very outset of his career, when he had found a b(iok- 
sellor (Mr. Cottle) generous enougti to promise him thirty guineas 
foi poems which he recited to him, and might have received the 
whole sum immediately on delivering the manuscript, he went on, 
week after week, begging and borrowing for his daily needs in the 
most humiliating manner, until he had drawn from his patron 
the whole of the promised purchase-money, without supplying 



A utomatic A ctivity : — Coleridge. , 267 

him with a line of that poetry which he had only to write dovm 
to free hirriself from obligation. — The habit of recourse to nervme 
stimulants (alcohol and opium) which he early formed, and from 
which he never seemed able to free himself, doubtless still further 
weakened his power of Volitional self-control ; so that it became 
necessary for his welfare, that he should yield himself to the control 
ijif others. The character of his Intellect w^as eminently speculative. 
He tells us, in his "Biographia Literaria," that even before reaching 
his fifteenth year, he had bewildered himself in metaphysics and 
theological controversy ; that nothing else pleased him ; and that, 
in especial, history and particular facts had no interest for him. 
This complete isolation of his mind from all the realities of life, 
except the friendships to which he was held by personal sympathy, 
marked his character throughout; what he would himself have 
called its subjective side having so great a predominance, that he 
seldom seemed to care to bring his ideas to the test of conformity 
with objective facts. All accounts of Coleridge's habits of thought, 
as manifested in his conversation (which was a sort of thinking 
aloud), agree in showing that his train of mental operations, once 
Btarted, went on of itself — sometimes for a long distance in the 
original direction, sometimes with a divergence into some other 
track, according to the consecutive suggestions of his own mind, or 
to new suggestions introduced into it from without. 

a. The Writer once heard a very characteristic instance of this, from 
a gentleman who had obtained an introduction to him when he waa 
domiciled with the Gillmans at Highgate. After presenting his 
credentials, his visitor expressed a hope that he was better, having 
hoard that he had been ill. "Yes," said Coleridge, " I am better, 
bnt I should be better still if I did not dream so much. These sub- 
jective states are very curious." And then he discoursed for two 
hours continuously on "subject" and "object;" or, as Carlyle 
graphically tells us, on what " he sang and snufSed into * om — m — ■ 
mject,' and * sum — m— mject,' with a kind of solemn shake or quavel 
as he rolled along." 



268 Succession of Ideas. 

h. How little lie thought of his listeners, when he was once fairly 
launched, is proved by the following account of his habits, narrated 
to the Writer by a friend who was a school-girl at Highgate at tho 
time of Coleridge's residence there. Being accustomed to walk eyery 
day in the '* Grove,'' at an hour when the girls were at play there, he 
Wfiuld sometimes draw one of the children to him, and begin by 
caressing and coaxing her to talk to him ; but very soon the con- 
versation would pass into the accustomed monologue, altogether 
beyond the comprehension of the poor child, who was like the 
*' weddin g- guest " under the spell of the ''ancient mariner," vainly 
endeavouring to free herself that she might resume her sport. Thus 
*' old Coley," as the school-girls irreverently nicknamed him, became 
the terror of the children of the neighbourhood, who learned 
Bedulously to keep out of his way. 

c. Charles Lamb's story of his having cut off the button by which 
Coleridge was holding him one morning, when he was going in to 
London by the Enfield stage ; of his leaving Coleridge in full talk, 
with the button in one hand, and sawing the air with the other ; and 
of his finding him discoursing in exactly the same attitude when he 
came back to Enfield in the afternoon, — is, of course, a ludicrous 
exaggeration ; but it conveys, like other "myths," a true idea of the 
degree in which Coleridge was habitually " possessed " by the train 
of thought that happened to be passing through his mind at the time. 

In fact, Coleridge's whole life might almost be regarded as a 
sort of waking dream. The composition of the poetical fragment 
"Kubla Khan" in his sleep, as told in his " Biographia Literaria,'* 
is a typical example of automatic mental action. 

d. He fell asleep whilst reading the passage in " Purchas's Pilgrim- 
age" in which the " stately pleasure-house " is mentioned; and, on 
awaking, he felt as if he had composed from two to three hundred lines, 
which he had nothing to do but to write down, "the images rising up aa 
things, with a parallel production of the correspondent expressions, 
without any sensation or consciousness of effort." The whole of this 
singular fragment, as it stands, consisting of fifty-four lineSj was 
written as fast as his pen could trace the words; but having been 
interrupted by a person on business, who stayed with him above an 



A ictomatic A ctivity : — Coleridge. 269 



hour, he found, to his surprise and mortification, that, "though Le 
still retained some vague and dim recollection of the general purpoit 
of the vision, yet, with the exception of some eight or ten scattered 
lines and images, all the rest had passed away, like the images on the 
surface of a stream into which a stone had been cast ; but, alas ! with- 
out the after-restoration of the latter." 

In the wonderfully graphic description of Coleridge's appearance 
and style of discourse, given by Carlyle (" Life of John Sterling," 
Chap. yilT.), it is necessary to bear in mind the essential 
difference, one might almost say the contrariety, between the 
characters of the " subject " and his pourtrayer : the *' history and 
particular facts " which had " no interest " for the one, being the 
favourite mental food for the other ; while the purely speculative 
problems in which Coleridge delighted (parodied by his friend 
Charles Lamb, in the question " How many angels can dance on 
the point of one needle?"), would have been regarded by Cariyle as 
altogether futile. 

e. " Coleridge's whole figure and air," says Carlyle, " good and 
amiable otherwise, might be called flabby and irresolute ; expressive 
of weakness under possibility of strength. He hung loosely on his 
limbs, with knees bent, and stooping attitude. In walking he 
rather shuffled than decisively stept ; and a lady once remarked 
he never could fix which side of the garden-walk would suit him 
best, but continually shifted in corkscrew fashion, and kept trying 
both. 

" Nothing could be more copious than his talk ; and, furthermore, 
it was always virtually or literally of the nature of a monologue ; 
sufiering no interruption, however reverent ; hastily putting aside 
all foreign additions, annotations, or most ingenuous desires foi 
elucidation, as well-meant superfluities which would never do. 
Besides, it was talk not flowing any whither like a river, but 
spreading every whither in inextricable currents and regurgitationa 
like a lake or sea ; terribly deficient in definite goal or aim — nay, 
often in logical intelligibility ; xvliat you were to believe or do, on any 
earthly or heavenly thing, obstinately refusing to appear from it. 
So that, most times, you felt logically lost, swamped, near to 



2 70 Succession of Ideas. 

drowning, in this tide of ingenious vocables, spreading out boundless 
as if to submerge the world. 

"He began anywhere. You put some question to him, made 
some suggestive observation ; instead of answering this, or decidedly- 
setting out towards answering it, he would accumulate formidable 
apparatus, logical-swim bladders, transcendental life-preservers, and 
other precautionary and vehiculatory gear, for setting out ; perhaps 
did at last get under weigh, but was swiftly solicited, turned aside by 
the glance of some radiant new game on this hand or that, into new 
courses, and ever into new, and before long into all the uni\erse, 
where it was uncertain what game you would catch, or whether any. 
His talk, alas ! was distinguished, like himself, by irresolution ; it 
disliked to be troubled with conditions, abstinences, definite fulfil- 
ments ; loved to wander at its own sweet will, and make its auditor 
and his claims and humble wishes a mere passive bucket for itself. 

" Glorious islets, too — balmy, sunny islets — islets of the blest and 
the intelligible ! T have seen rise out of the haze, but they were few, 
and soon swallowed in the general element again. 

' ' Eloquent, artistically expressive words you always had ; piercing 
radiances of a most subtle insight came at intervals ; tones of noble 
pious sympathy, recognisable as pious, though strangely coloured, 
were never wanting long ; but, in general, you could not call this 
aimless, cloud-capt, cloud-based, lawlessly meandering human dis- 
course of reason by the name of * excellent talk,' but only of 

* surprising;' and were reminded bitterly of Hazlitt's account of it : 

* Excellent talker, very — if you let him start from no premises, and 
come to no conclusion.' '* 

It was by the brilliance and subtlety of those occasional flashes 
of thought which Carlyle designates as '' islets of the blest and the 
intelligible,'' and bj' the profound siiggestiveness of those frag- 
mentarj'- writings which constitute all he ever executed of his 
colossal project of a system of Mental Philosophy in its widest 
meaning, that Coleridge exerted that influence over the thinkers of 
the succeeding generation, which no one acquainted with its Intel- 
lectual history can question. 

232. So, again, the artistic life of Mozart, from his infancy to his 



A tUomatic A divity : — Mozart. 2 7 1 

death, presents a typical example of the spontaneous 01 automatio 
production of Musical conceptions ; which, under the skiltnl training 
lie received from his father, developed themselves into creations of 
the veij highest order, whose number, considering the early age 
at which he died (less than thirty-six years) is nothing less than 
marvellous. In fact; whether we estimate Mozart by the spon- 
taifcity, the productiveness, or the variety of his inventive power, 
as attested by tlie multitude of those "things of beauty" he called 
into existence, every one of which will be "a joy for ever," — or by 
that wonderful divining faculty which enabled him, as a hoy, to 
anticipate almost everything that was then known in Music, and 
as a man, to advance, in every style he took up, far beyond his 
greatest predecessors in each department, — or by the permanent 
impress he has left upon his Art, not merely in furnishing the most 
jverfect models for the study of those who especially cultivate it, 
6ut in elevating that general appreciation of the highest order 
of beauty, which only the works of a consummate Artist can call 
forth, — Mozart certainly stands alone among Musicians, and deserves 
to rank as a typical example of genius. Mozart, like Coleridge 
was a man whose Will was weak in proportion to the automatic 
activity of his mind ; and it is probable that if he had not been 
under the guidance, in the first instance, of a judicious father, and 
afterwards of an excellent wife, to both of whom he had the good 
sense to submit himself, his career would have been comparatively 
inglorious. For his lively sensibility made him the sport of every 
kind of impulse, so that he could neither keep firm to a resolution, 
nor resist a temptation : and hence he would never of his own 
accord have subjected himself to the discipline which his father 
imjiosed upon him, and without which he could not have been 
anything else than a "musical prodigy ;" nor would he have had 
the motive which his conjugal affection supplied, for the steady 
ap])lication that was required for the elaboration of his greatest 
works. Hence his life becomes a most interesting study to the 

9/2 



272 Succession of Ideas. 

Psychologist, no less than to the Musician. Of the general 
featmvs of his career, a sketch has already been given (§ 206) ; 
we shall now endeavour to trace-out the manner in which he 
worked j and of this we fortunately have a pretty full account from 
himself, in a letter to a friend : — 

*' You say you should like to know my way of compoaing, and 
what method I follow in writing works of some extent. I can really 
Bay no more on the subject than the following, for I myself know no 
more about it, and cannot account for it. When I am, as it were, 
completely myself, entirely alone, and of good cheer, say, travelling 
in a carriage, or walking after a good meal, or during the night when 
I cannot sleep ; it is on such occasions that my ideas flow best and 
most abundantly. Whence and how they come, I know not, nor can 
I force them. Those ideas that please me I retain in my memory, 
and am accustomed (as 3 have been told) to hum them to myself. If 
I continue in this way, it soon occurs to me bow I may turn this or 
that morceau to account, so as to to make a good dish of it, that is to 
say, agreeably to the rules of counterpoint, to the peculiarities of the 
various instruments, «S:c. 

"All this fires my soul, and, provided I am not disturbed, my 
subject enlarges itself, becomes methodised and defined, and the 
whole, though it be long, stands almost complete and finished in my 
mind, so that I can survey it like a fine picture, or a beautiful 
statue, at a glance. Nor do I hear in my imagination the parts 
successively, but I hear them, as it were, all at once [gleich alles 
zusammen). What a delight this is, I cannot tell ! All this 
inventing, this pondering, takes place in a pleasing lively dream. 
Btill the actual hearing of the tout ensemble is after all the best. What 
has been thus produced I do not easily forget, and this is perhaps the 
best gift I have my Divine Maker to thank for. 

' ' When I proceed to write down my ideas, I take out of the bag of 
my memory, if I may use that phrase, what has previously been 
collected into it in the way I have mentioned. For this reason, the 
committing to paper is done easily enough ; for everything is, as I said 
before, already finished ; and it rarely differs on paper from what it 
was in my imagination. At this occupation I can therefore sufi'er 
myself to be disturbed; for whatever may be going on around me, I 



A utomatic A ctivity : — Mozart, 273 

frribe and even talk, but only of fowls and geese, or of Gretel or 
Barbel or some such matters.* But wby my productions take from 
my hand that particular form and style that makes them Mozartish, 
and different from the works of other composers, is probably owing 
(•■c the same cause which renders my nose so, or so large, so aquiline, 
01 in short, makes it Mozart's, and different from that of other people. 
For I really do not study or aim at any originality ; I shoiild in fact 
not be able to describe in what mine consists, though I think it quite 
natural that persons who have really an individual appearance of 
their own, are also differently organised from others, both externally 
and internally. At least I know that I have not constituted myself, 
either one way or the other." — (Holmes's Life of Mozart, p. 318.) 

An interesting pendant to this remarkable self- analysis is supplied 
by Mozart's answer to the question asked him by a lad of twelve 

* The story of the production of the Overture to "Don Giovanni " affords so 
admirable an illustration of the above description, that, though often told, it ought 
not to be omitted here : — On the very evening before the first performance of 
this Opera, not a note of the Overture had been written ; and Mozart was giving 
himself up to social enjoyment at the house of Dussek, for whose wife (a finished 
singer) he had been that day composing a highly scientific scena, peculiarly suited 
to her style. About midnight he retii-ed to his apartment, desiring his wife to 
make him some punch, and to stay with him to keep him awake while he wrote. 
She accordingly began to tell him fairy tales and odd stories, which made him laugh 
till the tears came. The punch, however, occasioned such a drowsiness, that he 
could only go on while his wife was talking ; as soon as she ceased, he dropped 
asleep. The efforts which he made to keep himself awake, the continual alternation 
of sleep and watching, so fatigued him, that his wife persuaded him to take some 
rest, promising to awake him in an hour's time ; but he slept so profoundly, that 
she suffered him to repose for two hours. At five in the morning she awoke him ; 
and by seven o'clock, the hour at which he had appointed the music-copiers to 
come to him, the Overture was finished. The commencement of the evening per- 
formance was delayed, because the copiers had not completed their work ; and the 
parts were brought into the orchestra with the notes still covered with the sand 
which had been used to dry up the ink. — Of course the Overture had to be per- 
formed without any rehearsal ; and Mr. Holmes thinks it not unlikely that this 
iour deforce was intended by Mozart as a compliment to the Prague Orchestrsu 
It is clear that the Overture must have previously evolved itself in all its com' 
pleteness in his creative imagination ; since the mere writing it down must have 
engrossed the whole of the time within which it was committed to paper. As a 
mere feat of Memory, its production was therefore most marvellous ; to say nothing 
of the transcendant merits of the work itself, which none but a Mozart could haT« 
produced. 



274 Succession of Ideas. 

5'ear8 old, who already played the pianoforte very skilfully. "Hen 
Kapellmeister, I should very much like to com.pose something. Hov 
am I to begin?" " Pho-pho, " said Mozart, "you must wait." 
** You, " said the boy, *' composed much earlier. " " But, " replied 
Mozart, *' I asked nothing about it. If one has the spirit of i» 
composer, one writes because one cannot help it.'" — What can be a better 
description of the exuberant automatic activity of his Musical faculty? 
When he was *' in the vein " for composition, it was difRcult to tear 
him from his desk ; and when he was in the mood to improvise upon 
the pianoforte, either alone or in the society of a friend, sitting down 
to the instrument in the evening, he commonly pursued the train ol 
his musical thoughts till long after midnight. 

That, notwithstanding the exuberance of his own creative power, 
Mozart constantly disciplined it by the most sedulous study, and that 
he could, without being chargeable with imitation, assimilate (so to 
speak) into his own Musical constitution all that he found suitable in 
the works of others as pabulum for his genius, is one of its most re- 
markable features. " It is a very great error," he wrote to a friend, 
*' to suppose that my art has become so exceedingly easy to me. I 
assure you there is scarcely any one who has worked at the study of 
composition as I have. You could hardly mention any famous 
composer, whose writings I have not diligently and repeatedly studied 
throughout." And, in this self- education, as Mr. Holmes remarks, 
•* whatever of striking, new, or beautiful he met with in the works 
of others, left its impression on him; and he often reproduced 
these effects, not servilely, but mingling his own nature and feeling 
with them, in a manner not less surprising than delightful." Thus 
no musician more thoroughly appreciated, than did Mozart, the 
surpassing greatness, in his own particular walk, of Handel. 
"Handel," he said, "understands effects better than any of us; 
when he chooses, he strikes like a thunderbolt." Mozart's "addi- 
tional accompaniments" to the "Messiah" show how thoroughly 
impregnated he had become with the feeling which pervades that 
immortal work ; so as to be able to fill up, — with the rich colouring 
of an instrumentation, and with the telling efi'ects of harmonies, 
that Handel could not have devised, — the grand outlines traced by 
the Master's hand, in such a manner that none but a pedant 
oould take exception to difference of style. Let any competent 



A litomatic A ctivity : — Mozart. 275 

listener compare the effect produced on his own Musical sense by 
that wonderfal song, " The people that walked in darkness," as 
accompanied with and without the wind-instrument parts added by 
Mozart ; and he must acknowledge how admirably they carry out the 
"groping" sentiment of the air itself, which in Handel's score j^ 
merely repeated in octaves by the stringed instruments. It would 
seem as if Mozart had made this air (as it were) a part of himself, and 
that these accompaniments then evolved themselves in what was to Am 
its most natural form of complete expression. 

Only second to Mozart's creative genius, was his executive skill ,' 
which enabled him to render his own Musical ideas, and to expreLss 
his own feelings, on the pianoforte, in a way which, by the judg- 
ment of his ablest contemporaries, it would be impossible even now 
to surpass. The testimony of Haydn, in particular, who was a 
frequent guest at the parties at which Mozart was wont to intro- 
duce his new compositions to his friends, and who constantly- 
showed the most cordial appreciation of the genius of one whom 
less disinterested men depreciated as a dangerous rival, is singularly 
emphatic. "Mozart's playing,'' he said, "I can never forget." 
Doubtless, this executive skill was partly due to the early and 
excellent training he received from his father ; and was partly the 
result of the animating influence of the genius which thus found 
expression. But looking to the fact of no unfrequent occurrence 
in every department of invention, that genius has often to struggle 
fur its expression, and looking also to the peculiar mobility of 
Mozart's physical constitution, which showed itself in a variety of 
ways, it can scarcely be doubted that his was a case in which 
there was that complete harmony between his bodily and his 
mental organisation, which enables each tc minister in the highest 
degree to the requirements of the other. — If the self-discipliiio 
which Mozart so admirably exercised in the culture of his Musical 
gifts, had been carried into his Moral nature, so as to restrain the 
impulses of his ardent temperament within due bounds, and to 
prevent him from consuming the energy of his frail b:>dy in the 



276 Succession of Ideas, 



pursuit of exhausting pleasures, the world might have profited 
by a still higher development of his genius, and a still largei 
bequest of treasures of pure and elevated enjoyment. 

233. It may be well to contrast with these examples, two otheia 
drawn from the careers of men by whom inferior endowments wote 
turned to their best account, under the direction of a steady Will. 
Coleridge's brother-in-law, Southey, was as honourably dis- 
tinguished by his strong sense of duty, and strict fidelity to his 
engagements and resolutions, as Coleridge himself was lamentably 
uotorious for the reverse. Although few of Southey's poems may 
retain a lasting celebrity, yet his prose writings will always be 
iiiodels of excellence in composition ; and he had his powers under 
fauch complete command, that he never failed (save from physical 
incapacity) to perform those promises which are too often made 
by men of genius " only to be broken," and never shrank from 
what he felt to be a task of disagreeable drudgery, when once he 
ijir,d undertaken it. And it is specially worthy of note, that even 
ii\b poetic faculty seemed to be so far under his command, that he 
cou'^d fix how many lines he should write per day, so as to complete 
a po3in of a given length within a specified time. Though poetry 
of the highest eminence cannot be thus *' made to order," few in 
South iy's day could have produced what would have equalled his, 
either in opulence of imagination, or in splendour and appropriate- 
ness of diction. " His mind," it has been said, " although 
a teeming, was not an inventive or creative one. It returned 
manifold the seed deposited in it, but communicated to it com- 
paratively little of any new nature or quality." What his poetry 
wanted, was the true vitality of the mens divinior ; and this it was 
»i)t in Southey's nature to impart. 

231. The contrast between Haydn and Mozart, as regards both 
tlieir artistic genius and their personal character, is scarcely less 
striking. Haydn's musical ability, like Mozart's, manifested itself 
in childhood j but it received a far less complete training. Being 



Volitional Conh^ol : — Haydn, 277 

early thrown, however, in a great degree upon his own resources, 
he displayed that steadiness of purpose which mainly contributed 
to his subsequent distinction, in acquiring from books, and from 
g(ich chance instruction as he could obtain, the theoretical know- 
ledge which he felt that he needed for succeeding as a Composer. 
By giving a few lessons in music, and occasionally performing iu 
tlie orchestra, he managed to supply himself with what, frugally 
husbanded, served to provide him with absolute necessaries, and 
to enable him to maintain a decent appearance ; and having thus 
gradually acquired a reputation as an able Musician, at the age of 
twenty-nine (before attaining which Mozart had produced some of 
his master-pieces), he was appointed Maestro di Capella to Prince 
Esterhazy, in whose service he remained to the end of his long 
hfe of seventy-seven years. 

a Comfortably settled in the palace of Eisenstadt, in Hungary, 
enjoying in m.oderation his favourite diversions of hunting and fishing, 
and relieved from care for the future, Haydn there composed the long 
series of works in various styles which he produced before his visit to 
London at nearly sixty years of age ; which visit was the immediate 
occasion of his bringing out his *' Twelve Grand Symphonies," and 
indirectly (by the impression which his hearing of Handel's music 
made upon him) prompted the composition of the " Creation," which 
he produced in his sixty-fifth year. During the whole period of his 
residence with Prince Esterhazy, he may be said to have been edu- 
cating himself, under peculiar advantages, for those great works of 
his advanced life, on which his reputation now chiefly rests. He had 
a full and choice band living under the same roof with him, at his 
command every hour in the day ; he had only to order, and they were 
ready to try the efi'ect of any piece, or even of any passage, which, 
quietly seated in his study, he might commit to paper. Thus at 
leisure he heard, corrected, and refined whatever he conceived ; and 
icBver sent forth his compositions, until they were in a state to fear- 
lessly challenge criticism. 

There can be no question of Haydn's inferiority to Mozart iu 
creative power ; bat the steadiness of his application to his art, 



2"]^ Successio7i of Ideas, 



and the advantage he possessed in being constantly able to test hia 
productions by actual trial, enabled him ultimately to attain a 
place among the first of modern Musicians, which Mozart had 
reached at a bound. He did not possess enough of the emotional 
temperament to succeed In dramatic composition ; and his Operas 
haye been long forgotten. But his forte lay in the development of 
musical ideas, and in the construction of elaborate Orchestral 
combinations; so that he is commonly regarded as "the father 
of modern orchestral music." As already pointed out (§ 206), 
however, Mozart is fully entitled to share in this distinction; 
his marvellous intuition having directly led him to anticipate 
many of those effects, which Haydn was engaged in elabor- 
ating by successive steps. It is worthy of note, as showing 
the different temperaments of these two illustrious contem- 
poraries, that while Mozart's musical ideas were almost always 
in free flow (§ 400) — their character changing with the mood in 
which he happened to be — those of Haydn seemed only to come 
when he &et himself to compose, which he usually did at a 
fixed hour every day, in this respect strongly resembling 
Southey. 

h. It is related of him that, when he sat down to compose, he always 
dressed himself with the utmost care, had his hair nicely powdered, 
and put on his best suit. Frederick II. had given him a diamond 
ring ; and Haydn declared that, if he happened to begin without it, 
he could not summon a single idea. He could write only on the 
finest paper ; and was as particular in forming his notes, as if he had 
been engraving them on copper-plate. After all these minute pre- 
parations, he began by choosing the theme of his subject, and fixing 
into what keys he wished to modulate it ; and he varied, as it were, 
the action of his subject, by imagining to himself the incidents of some 
little adventure or romance. — Haydn had strong religious feeling ; 
and when, in composing, he found his imagination at fault, or was 
stopped by some difficulty which appeared insurmountable, he rose 
from the pianoforte and began to run over his rosary, and was ac- 
customed to say that he never found this method fail. 



Ideo-motor A dion, 279 



This last fact is a "pregnant instance" of the principle of action 
which we shall hereafter have to consider (Chap. XIII.) ;— that, 
namely, of the working of a mechanism beneath the consciousness^ 
which, when once set going, runs on of itself; and which is more 
likely tc evolve the desiderated result, when the conscious activ ty 
uf tho mind is exerted in a direction altogether different. 



Section Z.—Ideo-Motor Action. 

235. Although it has been usual to designate by the term volun- 
tory all those muscular movements which take-place as the result of 
mental operations, save when they are the expression of emotional 
states, yet a careful analysis of the sources from which many of 
even our ordinary actions proceed, will show that the Will has no 
direct participation in producing them ; and that they are, psycho- 
logically speaking, the direct manifestations of Ideational states 
excited to a certain measure of intensity, or, in physiological 
language, rejlex actions of the Cerehj^um. This mode of opera- 
tion has been already shown (§§ 94 — 111) not only to be fully 
conformable to the general plan of the activity of the Nervoua 
Bjsteni, but even to complete or fill-up a part of it which would 
otherwise be left void ; and we shall find that it takes account 
of a great number of phenomena which had not previously been 
included under any general category, and w^hich, when thus com- 
bined and generalized, form a most interesting and remarkable 
group, well deserving of attentive study. — It is, of course, when 
the Intellect is in a state of exalted (though it may be aberrant) 
activity, but when the directing power of tlie Will is suspended or 
weakened, that we should expect to see the most remarkable 
manifestations of this " reflex " power of the Cerebrum ; and such 
is the condition of the Somnambulist who acts his dreams (§ 492), 
and of the Biologized subject who acts his reverie (§ io\). In 



23o IdeO" motor Action, 



each case, the mind is " possessed " by a succession of Ideas, which 
may either be spontaneously evolved by its own operations, or may 
be directly suggested through the senses, or may be the products 
of associative action called forth by the promptings which it 
receives from without. In whatever mode the Ideas have been 
generated, it is the essential characteristic of these states, that 
the mind is entirely given-up to whatever may happen to be before 
it at the time : which consequently exerts an uncontrolled directing 
power over the actions, there being no antagonistic agency to keep 
it in check. 

236. We may range under the same category all those actions 
performed by us in our ordinary course of life, which are rather the 
automatic expressions of the ideas that may be dominant in our 
minds at the time, than prompted by distinct volitional efforts 
(§ 5^28). Of this kind, the act of expressing the thoughts in 
Language, whether by speech or by writing, may be considered as 
a good example : for the attention may be so completely given-up 
to the choice of words and to the composition of the sentences, that 
the movements by which the words and sentences already conceived 
are uttered by the voice or traced on paper, no more partake of the 
truly Volitional character, than do those of our limbs when we 
walk through the streets in a state of abstraction (§ 16). And it 
is a curious evidence of the influence of Ideas, rather than of the 
agency of the Will, in producing them, that, as our conceptions are 
a little in advance of our speech or writing, it occasionally happens 
that we mis-pronounce or mis-spell a word, by introducing into it 
a letter or syllable of some other whose turn is shortly to come ; or, 
it may be, the whole of the anticipated word is substituted for the 
one which ought to have been expressed. Now it is obvious that 
there cculd be neither any consciously-formed intention of break- 
ing the regular sequence, nor any volitional effort to do so ; and 
the result is evidently the automatic expression of the Idea repre- 
jBeiited by the anticipated word, which interferes with the working 



Anticipation of Words in Dictation. 281 

out of that which we have previously given it in charge to our 
automaton to execute.— An interesting example of this familiar 
[)henomenon (which, like many other mental phenomena, has not 
attracted the notice it merits, simply because it is so familiar) is given 
us by the amanuensis to whom Sir Walter Scott dictated his " Life 
of Napoleon Buonaparte " i — 

a. " His thoughts- flowed easily and felicitously, without any 
difficulty to lay hold of them or to find appropriate language ; which 
was evident by the absence of all solicitude {piiseria cogitandi) from his 
countenance. He sat in his chair, from which he rose now and then, 
t(;ok a volume from the book- case, consulted it, and restored it to the 
shelf, — all without intermission in the current of ideas, which con- 
tinued to be delivered with no less readiness than if his mind had 
been wholly occupied with the words he was uttering. It soon became 
apparent to me, however, that he was carrying on two distinct trains 
of thought, one of which was already arranged, and in the act of 
being spoken, while at the same time he was in advance, considering 
what was afterwards to be said. This I discovered by his sometimes 
introducing a word which was wholly out of place — entertained in- 
stead of denied, for example, — but which I presently found to belong 
to the next sentence, perhaps, four or five lines further on, which he 
had been preparing at the very moment that he gave me the words 
of the one that preceded it." — {Life of Sir Walter Scott, Chap. 
Ixxiii.) 

237. It is the dominajit Idea, then, which really determines these 
movements, the Will simply permitting them ; and the more com- 
pletely the volitional power is directed to other objects, the more 
completely automatic are the actions of this class. They may, 
indeed, come to be jjerformed even without the consciousness, or 
ftt least without the remembered consciousness, of the agent ; as 
we see in tlie case of those who have the habit of ^'thiukin-^ 

o 

aluud," and who are subsequently quite surprised on learning wliat 
they have uttered. The one-sided conversation of some personi^ 
who are far more attentive to their own trains of thought, than 
the}^ are to what may be expressed by otliers, and wiio are 



2S2 Ideo-inotor Action, 

allowed to proceed with little or no interruption, is often a sort 
of " tliinking aloud." — This was pre-eminently the habit of Cole- 
ridge, whose whole life was little else than a waking dream, and 
whose usual talk has been shown to have been the outpouring ol 
his *' dominant ideas.** (See § 231.) — ^The following case, recent]/ 
communicated to the Writer, shows how strongly the 'Ohode of 
eapression of our ideas is influenced by habit ; and how, after 
the chain would seem to have been completely broken, it may 
come to renew itself when the circumstances recur under which 
it had been formed : — 

j. h. A Military Officer, who had seen much hard service at a time when 

! B command was scarcely ever given without the accompaniment oi 

I an oath, and who had thus acquired the habit of continual swearing, 

determined, on retiring into private life, to do his best to forego this 
practice ; and by keeping a constant check upon himself, with the assist- 
ance of the friendly monitions of others, he entirely succeeded. After tho 
lapse of many years, however, he found himself called upon to perform 
some Military duty ; and, in the discharge of it, he used much of the 
bad language to which he had formerly accustomed himself. A friend 
who happened to notice this, having afterwards expressed his regret 
that he should have relapsed into his old habit of swearing, the Officer 
assured him (and he was a man whose word could be implicitly 
relied on) that he was not at the time in the least degree conscious of 
uttering an oath, and that he had not the slightest recollection of having 
done so. 

238. Much attention has recently been given to a set of Involun 
tary movements, which, however diverse the circumstances under 
which they occur, all have their source in one and the same mental 
condition, — that of expectant attention : — the whole Mind bolLig 
^'possessed" with the idea that a certain action will take place, 
and being eagerly directed (generally with more or less of emo- 
tional excitement) towards the indications of its occurrence. 
This is a very curious subject of inquiry, and one on which 
adequate scrutiny has scarcely yet been bestowed ; the phenomena 



Expectant Attention : — Stcsp ended Bid tons. 283 

which are referable to the principle of action here enunciated, 
havmg been very commonly explained by the agency of some other 
hypothetical Force. — Thus, if a button or ring be suspended from 
the end of the finger or thumb, in such a position that, v. heu 
slightly oscillating, it shall strike against a glass tumbler, it haa 
hsen affirmed by many who have made the experiment, that the 
bat ton continues to swing with great regularity, striking the glass 
at tolerably-regular intervals, until it has sounded the hour of the 
day, after which it ceases for a time to swing far enough to make 
another stroke. This certainly does come to pass, in many in- 
stances, without any intention on tlie part of the performer ; who 
may be really doing all in his power to keep his hand perfectly 
stationary. Now it is impossible, by any voluntary effort, to keep 
the hand absolutely still, for any length of time, in the position 
required ; an involuntary tremulousness is always observable in 
the suspended body ; and if the attention be fixed upon the part, 
with the expectation that the vibrations will take a determinate 
dirGction, they are very likely to do so.*— Their persistence in this 
direction, however, only takes 'place so long as they are guided hy the 
visual sensations ; a fact which at once points to the real spring of 
their performance. When the performer is impressed with the 
conviction that the hour loill be thus indicated, the result is very 
likely to happen ; and when it has once occurred, his confidence is 
sufficiently established to make its recurrence a matter of tolerable 
certainty. On the other hand, the experiment seldom succeeds 
with sceptical subjects; the "expectant idea" not having in them 
the requisite potency. That it is through the Mind that these 
DK'Vements are regulated, however involuntarily, appears evident 
from these two considerations : — first, that if the performer bo 



* This was long since pointed out by M. Chevrenl, who investigated the subject 
in a truly philosophic sph'it. See his letter to M. Ampere, in the ** Eevue des 
Deux-Mondes, " Mai 1833; and his moi-e recent treatise " De la Baguetta 
Divinatoire, du Pendule dit Explorateur, et des Tables Tournantes," Paris, 1854. 



284 Ideo-motor Action, 

entirely ignorant of the hour, the strokes on the glass do not 
indicate its number, except by a casual coincidence ; — and second, 
that the division of the entire period of the earth's rotation into 
twenty-four hours, and the very nomenclature of these hours, 
being entirely arbitrary and conventional, no other modu% 
operandi can be imagined. For eKample, the button which 
striii.3s eleven at night in London, should strike twenty-three in 
Italy, where (as in the astronomers Observatory) the cycle of 
hours is continued through the whole twenty-four ; and if an Act 
of Parliament were to introduce the Italian horary arrangement 
into this country, all the swinging buttons in her Majesty's 
dominions would have to add twelve to their number of post- 
meridiem strokes ; all which would doubtless come to pass, if the 
experimenters' expectation of the result were sufficiently strong. 
These phenomena, in which no hypothetical "odylic" or other 
"occult" agency can be reasonably supposed to operate, are here 
alluded-to only for the sake of illustrating those next to be 
described, which have been imagined to prove the existence of a 
new Force in Nature. 

239. If *' a fragment of anything, of any shape," be suspended 
from the end of the fore-finger or thumb, and the Attention be 
intently fixed upon it, regular oscillations will be frequently seen 
to take place in it ; and if changes of various kinds be made in the 
conditions of the experiment, corresponding changes in the direc- 
tion of the movements will very commonly follow. 

a. The public mind was directed to these facts, about the year 
1850, by Dr. Herbert Mayo ; who, having brought himself to accept 
Baron Eeichenbach's " Odyle " as a "new force in Nature,'* 
accepted these oscillations as a manifestation of it, and gave to this 
suspended body the designation of " odometer." After varying his 
experiments in a great variety of modes. Dr. Mayo came to the 
conclusion that the direction and extent of the oscillations were 
capable of being altered, either by a change in the nature of the 
Bubatances placad beneath the odometer, or by the contact of th« 



Expectant Attention: — Stisp ended Buttons. 285 

hand of a person of the opposite sex, or even of the experimenter's 
other hand, with that from which the odometer was suspended, or 
by various other changes of the like nature. And he gradually 
reduced his results to a series of definite Laws, to which he seems to 
have imagined them to be as amenable, as are the motions of 
the heavenly bodies to the law of Gravitation. — {T}ie Truths con- 
tained in Popidar ^Superstitions, 3rd edition, 1851, Letter xil.) 

b. Other observers, however, who were induced by Dr. Mayo'a 
earlier experiments to take-up the subject, and who worked it out 
with like perseverance and good faith, framed a very different code ; 
so that it at once became apparent to those who knew the influence 
which "expectant attention" exerts in determining involuntary 
muscular movements, that this was only another case of the same 
kind , and that the cause of the change of direction in each case lay 
in the Idea that some such change would result from a certain 
variation in the conditions of the experiment. Hence the general 
conclusions which each experimenter works out for himself, so far 
from being entitled to rank as " laws of Ody lie force," are merely 
expressions of what has been passing (though perhaps almost 
unconsciously to himself) in his own mind. — The truth of this 
rationale was proved by the results of a few very simple variations 
in the conditions of the experiment. When it was tried upon new 
subjects, who were entirely devoid of any expectant idea of their 
own, and who received no intimation, by word, sign, or look, of 
what was anticipated by others, the results were found to have 
no uniformity whatever. And even those who had previously been 
most successful in this line of performance, found all their success 
vanish, from the moment that they vjithdrew their eyes from the oscil- 
lating body, its movements thenceforth presenting no regularity 
whatever. — Thus it became obvious that the definite direction which 
the oscillations previously possessed, was due, not to any Magnetic, 
Electric, or Odylic force of which the operator was the medium, but 
to the influence directly exercised by his Ideas over his muscles, 
mder the guidance of his visual sense. 

240. Now this will occur, notwithstanding the strong Volitional 
determination of the experimenter to maintain a complete immobility 
in the suspending finger. And it is very easily proved that, aa 



2S6 Ideo-motor Action. 

m the preceaiiig- case, the movements are guided by his Visua) 
BensatioBs, and that the impulse to them is entirely derived from 
his expectation of a given result. For if he be ignorant of the 
change which is made in the conditions of the experiment, and 
should expect or guess something different from that which really 
i?xists, the movement will be in accordance with his Idea, net with 
Ike reality : — 

a. Bather more than twenty years ago, when no inconsiderable 
portion of the British public was amusing itself with swinging 
buttons and rings from its finger-ends, the attention of Scientific 
men was invited by Mr. Eutter of Brighton to the fact, that a very 
definite series of movements of a like kind was exhibited by a ball 
suspended from a metallic frame which was itself considered a fixture, 
when the finger was kept for a short time in contact with it ; and 
that these movements varied in direction and intensity, according as 
the operator touched other individuals with his disengaged hand, 
laid hold with it of bodies of various kinds, or altered his condition 
in various other miodes. These experiments appeared to many 
persons of great general intelligence, to indicate some new and 
mysterious agency not hitherto recognised in our philosophy ; for 
even among those who might be disposed to attribute the oscillations 
of a button suspended from the finger, to the involuntary move- 
ments of the hand itself, some were slow to believe that the simple 
contact of the finger with a frame of solid metal could produce 
the like vibrations through such a medium. Yet there were certain 
troublesome sceptics, who persisted in asserting that this was but 
pro another case of '* expectant attention ; " and such it was soon 
j^roved to be. 

b. The mode in which the denouement took place, however, was not 
a little curious. Among Mr. Eutter's disciples was a Homoeopathic 
Physician at Brighton, Dr. H. Madden ; who conceived the notable 
idea of testing the value of the indications of the Magnetometer (as 
it was called), by questioning it as to the characters of his remedies, 
JD regard to which he was of course himself" possessed" with certain 
foregone conclusions. Globules in hand, therefore, he consulted its 
oscillations, and found that they corresponded exactly with his idea 
of what they ouyhi to be ; a medicine of one class producing lonyi- 



Expectant Attention :—Rutters Magnetometer. 287 

Hdinal movements, wHcli were at once exchanged for transverse 
when a medicine of opposite virtues was substituted for it. In this 
way Dr. Madden was systematically going through the whole 
llomceopathic Pharmacopoeia; when circumstances led him to investi- 
gate the subject de novo, with a precaution which had never occurrfj 
tc him as requisite in the first instance, but of which the importaii ce 
ifl obvious to every one who holds the real clue to the mystery ;— 
namely, that he should not know what were the substances on which 
he was experimenting, the globules being placed in his hand by 
another party, who should give him no indication whatever of theii 
nature. Erom the moment that he began to work upon this plan, 
the whole aspect of affairs was altered. The results ceased altogether 
to present any constancy. Oscillations at one time transverse, at 
other times longitudinal, were produced by the very same globules ; 
whilst remedies of the most opposite kinds frequently gave no sign 
of difference. And thus, in a very short time, Dr. Madden was led 
to the conviction, which he avowed with a candour that was very 
creditable to him, that the whole system which he had built-up had 
no better foundation than his own anticij^ation of what the results 
should he. — [Lancet^ Nov. 15, 1851.) 

241. This case — vhich seems so easily disposed of by the phrase 
" all humbug," or " all imagination," — is, in truth, neither the one 
nor the other j but a singularly complete and satisfactory example of 
the general principle, that, in certain individuals, and in a certain 
state of mental concentration, the ex2:)ectation of a result is 
sufficient to determine, — without any voluntary effort, and even in 
opposition to the Will (for this may be honestly exerted in the 
attempt to keep the hand perfectly unmoved), — the Muscular 
movements by which it is produced. It is obvious, too, that the 
unconscious rhythmical motion of the hand constituted the vera 
causa of the vibrations of the magnetometer : a fact which will not 
BUi-prise any one who knows how difficult 'it is to prevent the 
tremors of a Telescope or a Microscope, by the most careful con- 
struction of its supporting frame-work ; or who bears in mind that 
the form of the great speculum of Lord Kosse's telescope, weighing 
23 



288 Ideo-motor Action. 



five tons, having a thickness of eight inches, and composed of the 
hardest known combination of metals, is perceptibly altered (as is 
demonstrated by the immediate impairment of the distinctness of 
its reflection) by a moderate pressure of the hand aganist its back. 
Moreover, as Dr. Madden justly remarked, the arrangement cl 
Mr. Rutter's apparatus was such as to admit of the greatest 
sensible effect being produced by the smallest amount of imparted 
motion ; and every modification of it which increased its immo- 
bility, decreased in the same proportion its apparent sensibility to 
the so-called "magnetic currents." It was further ascertained 
that no definite vibrations took place, unless the pendulum was 
watched; showing that, as in the preceding cases, the guidance of 
the visual sense was required to determine their direction. It is 
a curious example, however, of the hold which the belief in the 
"occult" has upon the Imagination, that, notwithstanding the 
complete proof thus given of the dependence of these vibrations 
upon the unconscious movements of the operator himself, the 
vague hypothesis of " human electricity " long continued to be 
entertained by Mr. Rutter and his disciples ; just as the Spiri- 
tualists of the present day will not accept Faraday's demonstration 
(§245) that tables are really "turned" and "tilted" by the 
pressure of the hands placed on them, — refusing to submit the 
question to the test of Physical experiment, because (as they say) 
it cannot negative their own conviction that they are exerting no 
pressure whatever. 

242. It is clearly on the very same Physiological principle, that 
we are to explain the mysterious phenomena of the " Divining 
rod ; " which have been accepted as true, or rejected as altogethei 
fabulous, according to the previous habits of thought of thos*i) 
t^ho have given their attention to the subject. — That the end of a 
hazel-fork, whose limbs are grasped firmly in the hands of a person 
whose good faith can scarcely be doubted, frequently points 
upwards or downwards without any intentional direction on his own 



Expectant A ttention : — Divin ing-Rod. 289 



part, and often thus moves when there is metal or water beneath 
the surface of the ground at or near the spot, is a fact which 
is vouched-for by such testimony that we have scarcely a right to 
reject it ; and when we come to examine into the conditions of the 
occurrence, we shall find that they are such as justify us in 
attributing it to a state of expectant attention, which (as we have 
Been) is fully competent tc induce muscular movement. For, in 
the first place, as not above one individual in forty, even in the 
localities where the virtues of the divining-rod are still held 
as an article of faith, is found to succeed in the performance of 
this experiment, it is obvious that the agency which produces the 
deflection — whatever be its nature — must operate by affecting the 
holder of the rod, and not by attracting or repelling the rod itself. 
And when experiments are carefully made with the view of deter- 
mining the nature of this agency, they are found to indicate most 
clearly that the state of expectant attention, induced by the 
anticipation of certain results, is fully competent to produce them. 
For the mere act of holding the rod for some time in the required 
position, and of attending to its indications, is sufficient to pro- 
duce a tendency to spasmodic contraction in the grasping muscles, 
notwithstanding a strong effort of the Will to the contrary ; and 
when, by such contractions, the limbs of the fork are made to 
approximate-towards or to separate-from each other, the point of 
the fork will be caused to move either upwards or downwards, 
according to the position in which it is held. If, when the muscles 
havo this tendency to contract, occasioned by their continued 
restraint in one position, the mind be possessed with the expecta- 
tion that a certain movement will ensue, that movement will 
actually take-place, even though a strong effort maybe made by 
the Will to prevent any change in the condition of themuscka. 
A nd a sufficient ground for such expectation exists, on the part of 
thofie who are "possessed" by the idea of the peculiar powers of the 
•Jiv;ning-rod. in the belief, or even in the surmise, that water or 



290 Ideo-motor Action. 



metal mdy lie beneath particular points of the surface oyer which 
they pass. 

a. Thus Dr. H. Mayo, notwithstanding his belief in the existence of 
An " Od-force^' governing the movements of the divining-rod, admitted 
that he found in the course of his experiments, that when hia 
'* diviner" knew which way he expected the fork to move, it 
invariably answered his expectations ; but when he had the man 
blindfolded, the results were uncertain and contradictory. Hence he 
becamo certain that several of those in whose hands the divining- 
rod moves, set it in motion, and direct its motion (however unin- 
tentionally and unconsciously) by the pressure of their fingers, and by 
carrying their hands near- to or apart-from each other. — (Ojr». cit.i 
Letter I.) 

6. The following statement of the results obtained by a very intelli- 
gent friend of the Writer, who took up the inquiry some years ago, 
with a strong prepossession (derived from the assurances of men of 
high scientific note) in favour of the reality of the supposed influence, 
but yet with a desire to investigate the whole matter carefully and 
philosophically for himself, will serve as a complete illustration of the 
doctrine enunciated above : — Having duly provided himself with a 
hazel-fork, he set out upon a survey of the neighbourhood in which 
he happened to be staying on a visit; this district was one known to be 
traversed by Mineral Veins, with the direction of some of which he 
was acquainted. With his "divining-rod" in his hand, and with 
his attention closely fixed upon his instrument of research, he walked 
forth upon his experimental tour ; and it was not long before, to his 
great satisfaction, he observed the point of the fork to be in motion, at 
the very spot where he knew that he was crossing a metallic lode. Eor 
many less cautious investigators, this would have been enough ; but 
it served only to satisfy this gentleman that he was a favourable 
subject for the trial, and to stimulate him to further inquiry. Pro- 
ceeding in his walk, and still holding his fork secundum artem, he 
frequently noticed its point in motion, and made a record of the 
localities in which this occurred. He repeated these trials on several 
consecutive days, until he had pretty thoroughly examined the 
neighbourhood, going over some parts of it several times. When he 
came to compare and analyse the results, he found that thoie was by 



Expectant Attention : — Divining Rod. 291 

no means a satisfactory accordance amongst them ; for there were 
many spots over which the rod had moved on one occasion, at which 
it had been obstinately stationary on others, and vice versa ; so that 
fche constancy of a physical agency seemed altogether wanting. 
Further, he found that whilst some of the spots over which the rod 
had moved, were those Jcnown to be traversed by Mineral Yeins, there 
were many others in which its indications had been no less positive, 
bat in wvilch those familiar with the Mining Geology of the neigh- 
bourhood were well assured that no veins existed. On the other 
hand, the rod had remained motionless at many points where it ougJit 
to have moved, if its direction had been affeiited by any kind of 
terrestial emanation. — These facts led the experimenter to a strong 
suspicion that the cause existed in himself alone ; and by carrying out 
his experiments still further, he ascertained that he could not hold 
the fork in his hand for many minutes consecutively, concentrating 
his attention fixedly upon it, without an alteration in the direction of 
its point, in consequence of an involuntary though almost imper- 
ceptible movement of his hands ; so that in the greater number of 
instances in which the rod exhibited motion, the phenomenon was 
clearly attributable to this cause; and it was a matter of pure accident 
whether the movement took place over a Mineral Yein, or over a 
blank spot. But further, he ascertained on a comparison of his 
results, that the movement took-place more frequently where he 
knew or suspected the existence of mineral veins, than in other 
situations ; and thus he came, without any knowledge of the theory 
of expectant attention, to the practical conclusion that the motions 
of the Eod were produced by his own Muscles, and that their actions 
were in great degree regulated automatically by the Ideas which 
possessed his mind. 

The same instrument appears to have been used, even from a 
very ojirly period, by those who were supposed to possess " a 
spirit >f divination," for the purpose of giving replies to questions by 
its movements, precisely after the fashion of the "talking tables" 
of our own day ; the hands of the operators (where they really 
believed in their power, and were not impostors) being automati- 
cally impelled to execute the appropriate movements of the rod, 



• Q 2 Ideo- motor A dion. 



either by their conscioiisly- formed idea of what the answer should 
be,* or by Cerebral changes which excite reflex movements that 
give expression to them, without themselves rising into the " sphere 
of consciousness ■' (§§ 42i, 425). 

243, No difiiculty can be felt by any one who has been led bv 
Ihe preceding considerations to recognize the principle of Ideo-Tnoto? 
act-ion, in applying this principle to the phenomena of " Table- 
turning" and *' Table-talking ; '' which, when rightly analysed, prove 
to be among the very best examples of the " reflex action of the 
Cerebrum/' that are exhibited by individuals whose state of mind 
can scarcely be considered as abnormal. The facts, when stripped 
of the investment of the marvellous with which they have too 
commonly been clothed, are simply as follows : — A number of 
individuals seat themselves round a table, on which they place 
their hands, with the idea impressed on their minds that the 
table will move in a rotatory direction ; the direction of the 
movement, to the right or to the left, being generally arranged at 
the commencement of the experiment. The party sits, often for a 
considerable time, in a state of expectation, with the whole 
attention fixed upon the table, and looking eagerly for the first 
sign of the anticipated motion. Generally one or two slight 
changes in its place herald the approaching revolution ; these tend 
still more to excite the eager attention of the performers, and then 
the actual "turning" begins. If the parties retain their seats, the 
revolution only continues as far as the length of their arms will 
allow ; but not unfrequently they all rise, feeling themselves 
obliged (as they assert) to follow the table ; and from a walk, 
their pace may be accelerated to a run, until the table actually 
epins-round so fast that they can no longer keep-up with it. A ii 
this is done, not merely without the least consciousness on the 
part of the performers that they are exercising any force of their 



See Chevreul, Op. cit., premiere partie 



Expectant Attention : —Table-turning 293 

dwn, but for the most part under the full conviction that they 
are not. 

244. Now the rationale of these and other phenomena of a like 
kind, IS simply as follows. The continued concentration of AAten- 
lion upon a certain idea gives it a dominant power, not only over the 
mind, but over the body^ and the muscles become the involuntary 
instruments whereby it is carried into operation. In this case, 
too, as in that of the divining-rod, the movement is favoured by 
the state of muscular tension, which ensues when the hands have 
been kept for some time in a fixed position. And just as in the 
case of the victims of the Dancing Mania (§ 259), it is by the con- 
tinued influence of the "dominant idea" that the performers are 
impelled to follow (as they believe) the revolution of the table, 
which they really maintain by their continued propulsion. How- 
ever* conscientiously they may believe that the " attraction of the 
table" carries them along with it, instead of the table being 
propelled by an impulse which originates in themselves, yet no one 
feels the least difficulty in withdrawing his hand, if he really wills to 
do so. But it is the characteristic of the state of mind from which 
these Ideo-motor actions proceed, that the Volitional power is for 
the time in abeyauce ; the whole mental power being absorbed (as 
it were) in the high state of tension to which the Ideational con- 
sciousness has been wrought-up. 

245. The demonstration that the table is really moved by the 
hands placed upon it, notwithstanding the positive conviction of 
the performers to the contrary, was first afi^orded by the very 
ingenious "indicator," devised by Professor Faraday, which ut 
constructed as follows : — 

4l couple of boards of the size of a quarto sheet of paper, a couple 
jf small rulers or cedar-pencils, a couple of india-rubber bands, u^ 
couple of pins, and a strip of light wood or cardboard eight or ten 
inches long, constituted its materials. The rulers being laid on one 
of the boards, each at a little distance from one of its sides and 



294 Ideo-7notor Action. 



parallel to it, the other board was laid upon the rulers, so that it 
would roll on them from side to side ; and its movements wore 
restrained, without being prevented, by stretching the india-rubber 
bands over both boards, so as to pass above and beneath the rulers. 
One of the pins was fixed upright into the lower board close to the 
middle of its farther edge, the corresponding part of the upper being 
cut away at that part, so that the pin should not bear against it ; 
the second pin was fixed into the upper board, about an inch back 
from the first ; and the strip of wood or cardboard was so fixed on 
these pins, as to constitute a lever of which the pin on the lower 
board was the fulcrum, while motion was imparted to the short arm 
of it by the pin on the upper board. Any lateral motion given to 
the upper board by the hands laid upon it, would thus cause the 
index-point of the long arm of the lever to move through a long 
arc in the opposite direction ; the amount of that motion being 
dependent on the ratio between the long and the short arms of the 
lever. « 

The first point tested by Faraday, in the spirit of the true 
Philosopher, was whether the interposition of his " indicators " 
between the hands of the operators and the table in any way 
interfered with the movements of the latter; and he found, by 
tying the boards together, and taking off the index, that no such 
interference was observable, the table then going round as before. 
When, however, the upper board was free to move, and each 
performer fixed his (or her) eyes upon the index, so as to be 
made cognizant by its movement of the slightest lateral pressure 
of the hands, any communication of motion to the table was 
usually kept in check ; but if the table did go round under this 
condition, its motion was alwayb preceded by a very decided 
movement of the index in the opposite direction. And the same 
indication was given when the index was hidden from the 
operator, but was watched by another person ; any movement 
shown by the table under that condition being always preceded 
by a considerable motion of the index in the opposite direction. 
And thus it may be considered as demonstrated that as the table 



Expectant A ttention : — Table-turning. 295 

never went round unless the " indicator " showed that lateral 
muscular pressure had been exerted in the direction of its move- 
ment, and as it always did go round when the "indicator" showed 
that such lateral pressure was adequately exerted, its motion was 
V)lely due to the unconscious muscular action of the performers.* 

246i A sufficient explanation of these wonders, then, being found 
in the known principles of Mental Physiology, it is against all the 
rules of Philosophy to assume that any other force is concerned in 
their production Yet experience has shown that when the 
Common Sense of the public once allows itself to be led aw^ay by 
the love of the marvellous, there is nothing too monstrous for its 
credulity. And the greatest difficulty in this case was to 
convince the performers that the movement of the table waa 
really due to the impulse which it received from their hands : 
their conviction being generallj'- most positive, that «s they were 
not conscious of any effi)rt, the table must have been propelled 
by some other agency, and that their hands were drawn along 
by its attraction. So resolutely was this believed, that when the 
table was intentionally prevented from moving by the determined 
pressure of the hands of one of the parties, so that those of another 
^automatically moving in the expected direction — slid over its 
mrface, instead of carrying the table with them, the fact, 
instead of being received as evidence that the hands would 
have moved the table had it been free to turn, was set down 
to a " repulsive " influence exerted by the table on the hands ! 
It might have been thought that Common Sense would teach, 
f.hat, if half-a-dozen persons lay their hands on a table, any 
movements which it executes are to be fairly attributed to 
muscular force communicated by them, until proof shall have been 

* See his memorable letter on Table Turning, in the "Athenaeum," of July 2, 
1853. — It would be well that experimenters on " Psychic Force " should profit by 
the admirable models set before them in this Letter, and in the Treatise " De la 
Baguette Divinaioire " of M. Chevreul, by two of the greatest Masters of Experi* 
mental Science. 



296 Ideo-motor Action, 

given to the contrary ; and that the absence of conscious efoH 
on the pirt of the performers is no valid proof to the contrary, 
since it is within the experience of every one tliat muscular 
movements are continually being executed without such effort, — 
fijB in the case of a man who continues to walk, to read aloud, :? 
ki play on a musical instrument, whilst his whole Attention is 
given to some train of thought which deeply interests him. Bui 
the table-turners would seldom listen to Common Sense, so com- 
pletely were they engrossed by their dominant idea. And even 
when Professor Faraday's "indicator" had supplied the most 
unequivocal proof that the movement of the table, instead of 
anticipating and producing that of the hands, is consequent upon 
the pressure which they impart, this proof was disposed of by the 
simple assertion that it had nothing to do with the case ; 
inasmuch as it only showed that Professor Faraday's performers 
moved the tables with their hands, whereas " we know that tve 
do nof" Those who make this assertion are (of course) scientifically 
bound to demonstrate it, by showing that in their case the table 
does go round without any deflection of the index by lateral 
pressure ; but they have uniformly refused to apply this test to 
their own performance, though repeatedly challenged to do so, — 
in the very spirit of the opponents of Galileo, who would not 
look through his telescope at the satellites of Jupiter, because 
they supplied evidence in favour of the Copernican theory. 

247. In the investigation of these phenomena, moreover, it was 
found necessary to treat with complete disregard all the testimony 
of such as bad given themselves up to the " domination " of the 
table-turning "idea;" for it continually became apparent that 
— no doubt, quite unintentionally and unconsciously — they would 
omit from their narrative the point most essential to the 
el acidation of the mystery : — 

Thus, the Writer's scepticism was on one occasion gravely rebuked by 
A lady, who assured him that, in her house, a table had moved round 



Expectant Attention : — Table-turning, 297 

and round, without heing touched. On inquiring into the circumstances, 
he found that a hat had been placed upon the table, which waa 
very small and light, and the hands of the performers upon the hat ; 
but the narrator was as sure that the hat could not have carried 
the table along with it, as she was that the hat moved round 
without any mechanical force communicated from the bauds! — I?i 
Rnother case, again, the Writer was seriously informed that a table 
liad been moved round by the will of a gentleman sitting at a distance 
from it; but it came out, upon cross-examination, that a number 
of hands were laid upon it in the usual way, and that after the 
performers had sat for some time in silent expectation, the operator 
called upon the spirit of "Samson" to move the table, which 
obediently went round : — the rationale being obvious enough to 
any one who reflects upon the analogy of the whole group with an 
Electro-biological " operator " and his " subjects " (§ 4o2). 

A long list might be given of similar absurdities ; the Writer's 
experience of which most fully confirmed the conclusions he had 
previously been led to form, in regard to the want of credibility 
which attaches to all testimony/ borne by the champions of 
Mesmerism to the wonders which they declare themselves (doubt- 
less most honestly) to have witnessed ; while it prepared him for 
fiinding exactly the same sources of fallacy, in the testimony on 
which the scientific inquirer is called on to accept the marvels 
of "Spiritualism" (§§ 365, 366). 

248. The application of the same principle to the ordinary 
phenomena of " Table-talking," is no less obvious. There can 
be no reasonable doubt that these phenomena are manifested in 
a large number of instances, through the agency of individuals 
who would not wilfully be parties to deception of any kind ; and 
that the movements which they involuntarily and unconsciouslii 
gave to the tables, are the expressions of the Ideas with wliich 
their own Minds are " possessed," as to what the answers should 
bo to the questions propounded. Thus when, in 1853, "Table- 
talking" first grew out of ''Table-turning," several Clergymen, 
strongly impressed with the belief that it was a manifestation of 



298 Ideo-motor Action. 

Satanic agency, put to the tables a series of what they regarded as 
test- questions, or performed test-experiments, the responses to which 
weald (as they supposed) afford convincing proof of their hypothesis. 

In his Table-moving tested, the Eev. N. S. Godfrey began by " tracing 
the existence of Satanic influence from the time of Moses to the 
time of Jesus ; connecting the ' witch, ' the ' familiar spirit, ' the 
spirit of Python, with the Evil Spirit in its actual and separate 
existence : " and asserted without the least hesitation, that although 
'* so long as the supernatural gifts of the Spirit remained among men, 
so long the evil spirits were cast out and their presence detected, " 
yet that when those miraculous powers were withdrawn, they could no 
longer be discerned, but have continued to exist to the present time, 
and make themselves known in these " latter times " as the "wander- 
ing (seducing) spirits, " whose appearance was predicted by St. Paul 
(1 Tim., iv., 10). That the answers to the "test questions" were 
exactly contrary to Mr. Godfrey's ideas of truth, was, in his judg- 
ment, peculiarly convincing; " for if indeed these tables do become 
possessed by some of the ' wandering spirits ' at the command of the 
Devil, it would be most impolitic, and quite at variance with the 
subtlety of his character, to scare people at the very outset. " The 
following answers, therefore, are obviously what Mr. G. expected : — 

"I spoke to the table, and said, 'If you move by electricity, 
stop. ' It stopped instantly ! I commanded it to go on again, and 
said, while it was moving, ' If an evil spirit cause you to move, 
stop. ' It moved round without stopping ! I again said, ' If there 
be any evil agency in this, stop. ' It went on as before. I was now 
prepared with an experiment of a far more solemn character. I 
whispered to the schoolmaster to bring a small Bible, and to lay it 
on the table when I should tell him. I then caused the table to 
i-evolve rapidly, and gave the signal. The Bible was gently laid on 
the table, and it instantly stopped. We were horror-struck. How- 
ever, I deteimined to persevere. I had other books in succession 
laid on the table, to see whether the fact of a book lying upon it 
altered any of the conditions under which it revolved. It went 
round with them without making any difference. I then tried with 
the Bible four different times, and each time with the same result :• 
it would not move so long as that precious volume lay upon it. * ♦ j 



Expedmit A ttention : — Table-talkmg, 299 

now said, ' If there be a hell, I command you to knock on the flooi 
with this leg (the one next me) twice. ' It was motionless. ' 11 
there be not a hell, knock twice ; ' no answer. ' If there be a devil, 
knock twice ; ' no motion. * If there be not a devil, knock twice ; ' 
to our horror the leg slowly rose and knocked twice ! I then said, ' In 
the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, if there be no devil, knock 
twice ; ' it was motionless. This I tried four several times, and each 
time with the same result. " 

249. It is clear that Mr. Godfrey and his associates, if they 
had not distinctly anticipated these results, were fully pre- 
pared for them. Thus although he assures his readers that, 
when the Bible was placed on the table, the emotion in the minds 
of all the parties was curiosity, and that, if they had a bias, it was 
agahist the table stopping, the very fact of the experiment being 
tried by a man imbued with his prepossessions on the subject of 
Evil Spirits, Witchcraft, <fcc., sufficiently indicates what his real 
state of mind was, although he may not have been himself aware 
of it (§ 252 c). His involuntary muscular actions responded to this, 
although no voluntary movement would have done so, because he 
had not consciously accepted the Idea which had been shaping itself 
in the under-stratum. The experience of every one must hav^e 
convinced him that there is often a contrariety between our beliefs 
as to our own states of mind, and the facts of that state as they 
afterwards come to be self-revealed to us (§ 439) ; and it is a very 
marked peculiarity of these movements, that they often express 
more truly what is buried (as it were) in the vaults of our store- 
house, than what is displayed in the ware-rooms above. — The 
Kev. E. Gillson, M.A., a Clergyman of Bath, fully partaking of 
his predecessor's convictions on the subject of Satanic Agency, 
and also in the excitement prevailing in many circles at that time ou 
the subject of " Papal aggression," gave the following inter alia as 
his experiences {Table- Talking : Satanic Wonders and Prophetif 
Signs, 1853) :— 



300 Ideo-7notor Action. 



** I placed my hand upon the table, and put a variety of questions, 
all of which were instantly and correctly answered. Various ages 
were asked, and all correctly told. In reply to trifling questions, 
possessing no particular interest, the table answered by quietly 
lifting up the leg and rapping. But in answer to questions of a more 
exciting character, it would become violently agitated, and sometime® 
to such a degree that I can only describe the motion by the word 
franiic, I inquired, ' Are you a departed spirit ?' The answer was 

* Yes, ' indicated by a rap. ' Are you unhappy ? ' The table 
answered by a sort of writhing motion (!), which no natural powei 
over it could imitate. It was then asked, ' Shall you be for ever 
unhappy ? ' The same kind of writhing motion was returned. * Do 
you know Satan ? ' * Yes. ' * Is he the Prince of Devils ? ' * Yes. ' 

* Will he be bound ? ' ' Yes. ' ' Will he be cast into the abyss Y ' 

* Yes. ' ' Will you be cast in with him ? ' * Yes. * ' How long will it be 
before he is cast out ? ' He rapped ten. * Will wars and commotions 
intervene ? ' The table rocked and reeled backwards and forwards 
for a length of time, as if it intended a pantomimic acting of the 
prophet's predictions (Isaiah xxiv., 20). I then asked 'Where are 
Satan's head-quarters ? Are they in England ? ' There was a slight 
movement. * Are they in France ? ' A violent movement. ' Are 
they in Spain ? ' Similar agitation. ' Are they at Eome ? ' The 
table literally seemed frantic. At the close of these experiments, 
which occupied about two hours, the invisible agent, in answer to 
some questions about himself, did not agree with what had been said 
before. I therefore asked, ' Are you the same spirit that was in the 
table when we began ? ' ' No. ' ' How many spirits have been in 
the table this evening ? ' ' Four. ' This spirit informed us that he 
had been an infidel, and had embraced Popery about five years before 
his death. Amongst other questions, he was asked, * Do you know the 
Pope ?' The table was violently agitated. I asked, * How long will 
Popery continue ?' He rapped ten ; exactly coinciding with tho 
other spirits' account of the binding of Satan. Many questions wore 
asked, and experiments tried, in order to ascertain whether the 
results would agree with Mr. Godfrey's ; and on every occasion they 
did, especially that of stopping the movement of the table with the Bible. 
As we proceeded with our questions, we found an indescribable facility 
in tho conversation, from the extraordinary intelliyence and ingenuity 



Expectant A ttention : — Table- talking. 30 1 

displayed in the tahJe (/) E. g. — I inquired if many devils were posted 
in Bath. He replied by the most extraordinary and rapid knockirig 
of the three feet in succession, round and round, for some time, as A 
to intimate that they were innumerable ! " 

250. A third Clergyman, the Rev. R. W. Dibdin,M.A.,- -Yihc com- 
municated to the public the results of his experiences in a Lectuie 
at the Store Street Music Hall, Nov. 8, 1853, — while agreeing with 
his predecessors in the belief that the movements of the tables 
are the result of Satanic (or diabolic) agency, differed from them 
in maintaining "that devils alone (not departed spirits) are 
the agents in these cases ; and being lying spirits, it is quite 
ci-edible that, for purposes of their own, they might assume the 
names of departed men and women. " Of course he got the 
answers he expected on this hypothesis. The following is his set 
of * test-questions, ' the answers to which — being entirely opposec? 
to his own notions of truth— satisfied himf and were expected to 
satisfy his partners in the experiment, of the diabolical character 
of the respondent : — 

** * Are we justified by works ? ' * Yes. ' — ' By faith alone ? ' * No. * 
-* Is the whole Bible true ? ' * No. ' — ' Were the miracles of the 
New Testament wroug;ht by supernatural power ? ' * No. ' — ' By 
some hidden law of Nature ? ' * Yes. ' — * Was Oliver Cromwell 
good ? ' ' No. ' — ' Was Charles I. a good man ? ' * Yes. ' — * Is it 
right to pray to the Virgin ? ' * Yes. ' — ' Is Christ God ? ' * No. ' — 
Is he a man ? ' * No.' — ' Is he something between God and man, 
a sort of angel ? ' * Yes. ' — ' Is he in heaven ? ' ' No. ' — ' Where is 
he?' It spelt slowly H E L L. — As the last letter was indicated, 
the girl drew her hands quickly off the table, much as a person 
would do who was drawing them off a hot iron. Her brother-in-law 
Biirnod very pale, and took his hands off the table also, " 

251. These phenomena have been cited in fuller detail than may 
teem requisite ; because the character, position, and obvious 
sincerity of the actors and narrators place them beyond suspicion 
of intentional deception ; and because they afford a singularly 



302 Ideo-motor Action. 



apposite illustration jf the principle which the Writer desires to 
enforce. Bat that such obvious products of the questioners' own 
mental states should have been accepted by men of education, 
occupying the position of religious teachers in the National 
Church, as the lying responses of evil spirits, sent expressly to 
delude them, can only be deemed — by such, at least, as are prepared 
to accept a scientific rationale of the phenomena — a pitiable 
instance of the readiness with which minds of a certain type may 
allow themselves to become "possessed" by dominant ideas. 

252. Absurd as their belief may now seem, however, it is in no 
respect more destitute of foundation than that which is entertained 
at the present time, by multitudes of persons of high culture and 
great general intelligence, in the genuineness of messages supposed to 
be transmitted by good " spirits " of departed relatives and friends, 
to those whom they have left behind them on Earth. These 
communications always take place through human agency of some 
kind ; the individual who is the supposed recipient of them being 
termed a " medium. " The mode of intercourse with " spirits " 
afforded by the turning and tilting of tables, has now for the most 
part given place to others of a much simpler and more direct 
character. Some " mediums " use a small -wooden platform, only 
large enough for the hands to be laid on it, and running easily on 
castors. This planchette was in the first instance furnished with a 
pointer, which directed itself in succession to the letters or figures 
of an alphabet-card placed on the table over which it rolled ; and 
thus spelled out words, or indicated numbers. But a simpler 
process than this has since come into vogue ; for if a pencil be 
attached to the under side of the " planchette, ** with its point 
downwards, it will write on a piece of paper placed beneath it, iu 
accordance with the movement of the planchette under the hands 
of the "medium" laid upon it. In each case, the "mediums" 
declare that the movements of the planchette are not produced by 
any manual exertion of their own, but that they are guided b^ 



Expectant Attention : — Table-talking. 303 



some agency external to themselves, their hands being simply 
passive. But other " mediums '' take the pencil into their own 
hands, and write (in the ordinary way) what they conceive to be 
•;1jo messages dictated to them by the " spirits " with which they 
ai"e in communication. And some, again, carry on supposed con- 
versations with the "spirits;" not only asking questions of them 
by word of mouth, but giving forth through the same direct 
channel, the answers which they affirm that they receive,- — Now 
there can be no reasonable doubt that a great many of these 
phenomena are genuine to this extent, that the " mediums " are 
honest, and believe themselves to be the vehicles of " spiritual " 
communications. Putting intentional deceit out of the question 
for the present (§ ^^^^ it is perfectly obvious to such as have had 
adequate opportunities of studying the natural conditions of Eeverie 
and Abstraction (§§ 443 — 447), and the artificially -induced states 
known as "Electro-biological" and "Hypnotic" (§§448,493), 
that the condition of the Spiritualistic "mediums" is exactly 
parallel to that of the "subjects" in these states ; and that the 
supposed communications are nothing else than products of their 
own automatic mental operations, guided by the principle of sug- 
gestion, and expressing themselves in accordance with a certain 
preformed conception of the mode in which the message is to be 
made known. Of the influence of such conceptions on the course 
of thought and action in these curious states, ample evidence will 
be given hereafter (§ 451, g^ seq^). At present it will be sufficient to 
cite — as illustrations of the action of dominant ideas of a 
totally different order from those Tyhich brought out the terrifying 
responses obtained by the clerical seers, — two cases more recently 
nN?ordei as having occurred within his own experience, by the 
wu'hor of an article on "Spiritualism and its Recent Converts." 

c. '* Several years ago we were invited, with two medical friends, to 
j\ very select seance, to witness the performance of a lady, the Hon* 

24 



304 Ideo -motor Action. 

Miss N , who was described to ua as a peculiarly gifted 

* medium ; ' not merely being the vehicle of ' spiritual ' revelations 
of the moat elevating character, but being able to convince incredu- 
lous philoaophers like ourselves of thj reality of her * spiritual ' gifta, 
by ' physical ' manifestations of the most unmistakeable kind. 

Unfortunately, however, the Hon. Miss N was not in great force 

on the occasion of our visit ; and nothing would go right It waa 
suggested that she might be exhausted by a most successful perfor- 
mance which had taken place on the previous evening ; and that * the 
spirits' should be asked whether she stood in need of refreshment. 
The question was put by our host (a wine-merchant, be it observed), 
who repeated the alphabet rapidly until he came to N, and then went 
on sloiuly ; the table tilted at P. The same process was repeated, 
until the letters successively indicated were P, o, R, T. But this waa 
not enough. The spirits might prescribe either port or porter ; and 
the alphabet was then repeated sloiuly from the leginning, a pro- 
longed pause being made at E ; as the table did not tilt, a bumper of 
port was administered ' as directed. ' It did not, however, produce 
the expected effect ; and with the exception of a * manifestation ' we 
shall hereafter notice under another head (§ 530), the seance was an 
entire failure. 

&. *' On another occasion, we happened to be on a visit at a house at 
which two ladies were staying, who worked the planchette on the 
original method (that of attaching to it a pointer, which indicated 
letters and figures on a card), and our long previous knowledge of 
whom placed them beyond all suspicion of anything but seZ/-decep- 
tion. One of them was a firm believer in the reality of her inter- 
course with the spirit- world ; and her * planchette ' was continually 
at work beneath her hands, its index pointing to successive lettera 
and figures on the card before it, just as if it had been that of a 
telegraph- dial acted on by galvanic communication. After having 
watched the operation for some time, and assured ourselves that the 
answers she obtained to the questions she put to her ' spiritual * 
visitants were just what her own simple and devout nature would 
suggest, we addressed her thus : — ' You believe that your replies are 
dictated to you by your * spiritual' friends, and that your hands are 
the passive vehicles of the * spiritual ' agency by which the planchette 
ia directed in spelling them out. We believe, on the other hajid, that 



Expectant A ttention : — Table-talking, 30 5 

the answers are the products of your own Brain, and that the plan- 
chette is moved by your own Muscles. Now we can test, by a yery 
simple experiment, whether your view or ours is the correct one. Will 
you be kind enough to sliut your eyes when you ask your question, and 
to let us watch what the planchette spells out ? If ' the spirits ' guide 
it, there is no reason why they should not do so as well when your 
ryes are shut, as when they are open. If the table is moved by your 
own hands, it will not give definite replies except under the guidance 
of your own vision. ' To this appeal our friend replied that she 
could not think of making such an experiment, as ' it would show a 
want of faith ; ' and all our arguments and persuasions could only 
bring her to the point of asking the spirits whether she might comply 
with our request. The reply was, ' No. ' She then, at our continued 
urgency, asked 'Why not?' The reply was, 'Want of faith.' 
Putting a still stronger pressure upon her, we induced her to ask, 
' Faith in what ? ' The reply was, * In God. ' 

c. "Of course, any further appeal in that quarter would have been 
useless ; and we consequently addressed ourselves to our other fair 
friend, whose high culture and great general intelligence had pre- 
pared her for our own rationalistic explanation of marvels which had 
seriously perplexed her. For having been engaged a short time 
before in promoting a public movement, which had brought her into 
contact with a number of persons who had previously been strangers 
\o her, she had asked questions respecting them, which elicited repliea 
that were in many instances such as she declared to be quite un- 
expected by herself, — specially tending to inculpate some of her 
coadjutors as influenced by unworthy motives. After a little 
questioning, however, she admitted to us that she had previously 
entertained lurking suspicions on this point, which she had scarcely 
even acknowledged to herself, far less made known to others ; and 
was much relieved when we pointed out that the planchette merely 
revealed what was going on in the understratum of her own mind. 
iler conversion to our view was complete, when, on her trying the 
working of the planchette with her eyes shut, its pointer went astray 
dltogether,'^ — {Quarterly Review, Oct. 1871, p. 315.) 

253. It is often cited as a proof that the performers are noi 
expressing by involuntary muscular actions what is passing in 



5o6 Ideo -motor Action. 

their own minds, that the answers given by the tables are wti 
Jcnown to any of themselves, though known to some other person in the. 
nom. Of this an instance was early recorded by Mr. Godfrey, 
which corresponds in all essential particulars with cases repeatedly 
iJesciibed to the Writer by persons in whose veracity he could 
place confidence : — 

a. "I procured an alphabet on a board, such as is used in a 
National School ; this board I laid down on the floor at some little 
distance from the table, and I lay down on the ground beside it. I 
then requested one of the three persons at the table to command it 

to spell the Christian names of Mr. L , of B , by lifting up 

the leg next him as I pointed to the letters of the alphabet in 
succession. He did so, and I began to point, keeping the pointer 
about three seconds on each letter in succession (I must say, that 
neither of the three persons at the table had ever heard of Mr. 

L ; and B is 150 miles from this place). When I arrived 

at G, they said, "That's it; the table is lifting its leg." When 
I came to E, it rose again; and in this way it spelt "George Peter," 
which was quite correct. 

h. So, again, the late Dr. Hare, an American Chemist and Phy- 
sicist of some reputation, thought that he had obtained a precise 
experimental proof of the immortality of the soul (1) by means of an 
apparatus by which the answers communicated through the 
"medium" were spelled out by a hand pointing to an alphabet-dial 
which was hidden from her eyes. But it is clear from his narrative 
of the experiment, that her eyes were fixed upon the person to whom 
the expected answer was known, and that her movements were 
guided by the indications she received from his Involuntary move- 
ments. 

254. Such "movements of expression" constitute another very 
curious illustration of the general principle of Ideo-motor action. 
For the state of expectant attention from which they proceed 
is almost always mixed up with some degree of erpoiionai excite- 
ment (§ 265) ; and there are many persons who cannot, by the 
strongest exercise of Volitional control, refrain from showing what 



Unconscious Movements of Expression. 307 

IB the letter or figure they expect, when the pointer comes to it. 
Still more is this likely to be the case, when the questioner is not 
on his guard against this source of fallacy ; so that, unless a screen 
be interposed between the "medium" and the person to whom the 
answer is known, there is no proof whatever of its being derived 
trom any ether source than hu mind. This source of fallacy was 
very early found out by a sagacious observer, when " spirit 
rapping" was first introduced into this country by Mrs. 
Hayden : — 

a. Mr. G. H. Lewes, having formed hie own conclusions on the 
matter, from the accounts he had heard of Mrs. Hayden's per- 
formances from those who had witnessed them, took an opportunity 
of personally testing their correctness, with the most satisfactory 
result. He considered that Mrs. Hayden probably derived her indi- 
cations as to the times at which to **rap," from some involuntary 
sign given by the questioner, when his pointer had arrived at the 
letter which should form the next component of the expected answer ; 
this sign being either an unusual delay in passing to the next letter, 
or some slight look or gesture which would be perceived by an 
observer habitually on the watch for such indications. Accordingly, 
by purjposely giving such indications, he caused Mrs. Hayden to rap 
out answers of the most absurdly erroneous character, to a series of 
questions which he had previously written down, and which he had 
also communicated to another member of the party, for the sake of 
negativing any subsequent charge of unfairness that might be raised 
against him ; the only true reply being the one given to the final 
question — **I8 Mrs. Hayden an impostor?" to which the answer 
was given by unhesitating raps, as his pointer came upon the 
letters Y, E, S. 

h. The truth of this view of the case was soon confi.rmed by the 
results of many similar experiments ; and a long series of ludicrous 
replies could be given, which were spelled- out on various occasions 
bj the direction of waggish questioners. It thus became clear that 
the raps were made by the "medium" herself (it having been 
proved that the sounds can be produced by a movement in the foot, 
which shall not be perceptible even to those who are watching it), 



3o8 Ideo-motor Action. 



and that she derived her indications from the promptings supplied 65 
the questioners themselves, however unintentionally and even unconsciously 
on their own parts. And this conclusion was fully borne out by a 
comparison of the conditions under which Mrs. Hayden wa* 
most successful, with those under which her failures (for maiii; 
failures there were) took place. It was uniformly found that those 
whose questions had been most accurately and completely answered, 
were persons of excitable temperament and demonstrative habits 
who were accustomed to signify more or less of what was passing in 
^•heir minds by the automatic movements of gesture, expression, &c. 
On the other hand, those to whom *'the spirits" would give no 
information, were persons of comparatively imperturbable nature, 
possessing considerable command over their muscles, and habitually 
yielding very little to those influences which so strongly manifest 
themselves in individuals of the opposite temperament. And on one 
occasion, an eminent man of science, who belongs to the former 
category, but also possesses a very strong will, — having been at first 
much surprised at the accuracy of the replies to certain questions 
which he had put (not being at that time cognizant of the rationale 
of the operation), biit having observed that none could be furnished 
to a gentleman whose temperament was of the opposite kind, — made a 
second trial, with the strong determination to prevent any indication 
escaping him of the times at which he expected the '*raps;" which 
trial was as complete a failure on Mrs. Hayden's part, as the first 
had been a success. 

255. The following is a more recent case of the same kind, relating 
to another American professional " medium," whose gifts (like 
those of Mrs. Hayden) chiefly lay in playing on the credulity of 
such as lent themselves to his clever deceptions : — 

a. " We were requested by a lady who had known Mr. Foster in 
America, to accompany her and her son-in-law (an eminent Loudoh 
Phygician) on a visit to Mr. Foster, who had arrived in London only 
a few days previously. We were not introduced to him by name, 
and we do not think that he could have had any opportunity of know- 
ing our person. Nevertheless, he not only answered, in a variety of 
modes, the questions we put to him respecting the time and cause of 
the death of several of our departed friends and relatives, whose namej 



Unconscious Movements of Expression. 309 

we had written down on slips of paper which had been folded-up and 
crumpled into pellets before being placed in his hands ; but he 
brought out names and dates correctly, in large red letters, on hia 
bare arm, the redness being produced by the turgescence of the minute 
vessels of the skin, and passing away after a few minutes, like a blushe, 
We must own to have been strongly impressed at the time by thie 
performance ; but on subsequently thinking it over, we could see that 
Mr. Poster's divining power was probably derived from his having 
acquu'ed the faculty of interpreting the movements of the to'p of a pen 
or pencil, though the j^oint and what was written by it was hid from 
his sight, with the aid of an observing power sharpened by practice,* 
which enabled him to guide his own movements by the indications 
unconsciously given by ourselves of the answers we expected. For 
though we were fully armed with the knowledge which had been 
acquired of the source from which Mrs. Hayden drew her inspiration, 
and did our utmost to repress every sign of anticipation, we came, on 
reflection, to an assured conviction that Mr. Foster had been keen- 
sighted enough to detect such signs, notwithstanding our attempt 
to baffle him. For, having asked him the month of the death of a 
friend, whose name had previously appeared in red letters on his arm, 
and the year of whose death had also been correctly indicated in 
another way, he desired us to take up the alphabet- card and to point 
to the successive letters. This we did, as we helieved, with pendulum- 
like regularity ; nevertheless, distinct raps were heard at the letters 
J, TJ. When, however, on the next repetition, we came to L, M, N, 
Mr. Foster was obviously baffled. He directed us to ** try back" two 
or three times, and at last confessed that he could not certainly tell 
whether the month was June or July. The secret of this was, that 
we did not ourselves recollect. 

h. "Wishing to clear up the matter further, we called on Mr. Foster, 
revealed ourselves to him in propria persona, and asked him if he 
would object to meet a few scientific investigators, who should be 
allowed to subject his powers to fair tests. As he professed his 
i-eadiness to do so, we brought together such a meeting at our own 
house; and previously to Mr. Foster's arrival, we explained to our 
friends the arrangements we proposed. One of these was, that one 

* To what a pitch of keenness and rapidity this discerning power maj \m 
W"ii;'it by the special education of it has been already shown (§ 185). 



3IO Ideo-motor Action, 

of the party should sit outside the " circle," and should devote himself 
to observing and recording all that passed, without taking any part 
whatever in the performance. Another was, that instead of writing 
down names on slips of paper, whilst sitting at the tabk withiu 
Mr. Foster's view, we should write them at a side-table, with ouz 
backs turned to him. On explaining these arrangements to Mr, 
Foster, he immediately said that the first could not be permitted, im 
that every person present m/ast form part of the circle. To the second 
tie made no objection. After handing him our slips of paper carefull}' 
folded-up, we took our seats at the table, and waited for the announce- 
ment of spiritual visitors. The only one, however, who presented 
himself during an hour's stance, was the spirit of our owu old master, 
whose name Mr. Foster might very readily have learned previously, 
but about whom he could give no particulars whatever, ^ot one of 
the names written on the papers was revealed. 

c. "The patience of our friends being exhausted, they took their 
leave ; but as Mr. Foster's carriage had been ordered for a later hour, 
we requested him to sit down again with the members of our own 
family. ' Now,' we said, ' that these incredulous philosophers are gone, 
perhaps the spirits will favour us with a visit.' We purposely fol- 
lowed Ms lead, as on our first interview, and everything went on as 
successfully as on that occasion ; until, whilst the name of a relative 
we had recently lost was being spelled out on our alphabet- card, the 
raps suddenly ceased on the interposition of a large music-book, which 
was set-up at a preconcerted signal so as to hide the top as well as the 
bottom of our pointer from Mr. Foster's eyes. — Nothing could more 
conclusively prove that Mr. Foster's knowledge was derived from 
observation of the movements of the pointer, although he could only 
see the portion of it not hidden by the card, which was so held as to 
conceal the lower part of it ; and nothing could be a better illustra- 
tion of the principle of ' unconscious ideo-motor action,' than the 
fact, that whilst we were most carefully abstaining from any pause or 
look from which he might derive guidance, we had enabled him to divine the 
answer we expected. — The trick by which the red letters were produced 
was discovered by the inquiries of our medical friends," — [Quarterly 
Review, October, 1871, p. 332.) 

256. It is further asserted, however, that the tables or planchette* 



Unconscious Muscular Movement, 3 1 1 

ofien give true answers to questions proposed to them as to 
matters of fact, though none of the parties present may have auy 
knowledge of what the answers should be \ but this, if it be 
really so, is not only far from being opposed to the Physiological 
doctrines here advanced, but affords a curious illustration and 
extension of them. For, as there is no doubt that impressions 
C'f which we were once conscious, though we have entirely lost our 
lecollection of them, may direct our trains of thought in Delirium 
and Dreaming, or may even, as in Somnambulism, govern oui 
actions ; so does it seem quite reasonable to attribute the move- 
ments by which the table gives its answers, to impressions left 
by past ideas upon the Cerebrum, which may express themselves 
through the muscular system, without any consciousness of their 
existence on the part of the operator (§ i'25\ 

257. To this same category are doubtless to be referred a large 
number of those actions of Mesmeric " subjects," which have 
been considered by some as most unequivocal indications of the 
existence of an agency sui generis, whilst by others they have 
been regarded as the results of intentional deception. Many of 
them are of a kind which the Will could not feign, being violent 
convulsive movements, such as no voluntary effort could produce : 
but the Mesmeric " subject " being previously "possessed" with 
the expectation that certain results will follow certain actions 
(as, for instance, that convulsive movements will be brought on 
by touching a piece of " mesmerized" metal), and the whole nervous 
power being concentrated, as it were, upon the performance, the 
movements follow when the "subject" believes the conditions to 
have been fulfilled, whether they have been or not (§ 518), — These 
facts were most completely established by the Commission 
ajipointed to investigate the pretensions of Mesmer himself : and 
xi^hilstthey demonstrate the unreality of the supposed "mesmeric*' 
inlluence (so far, at least, as this class of phenomena is concerned), 
they also prove the position here contended for ; namel}', the 



312 I deo-mo tor Action. 

Bufficiencj of the state of expectant attention, in those whose 
Minds can be completely " possessed " by it, to produce effects of 
the same nature with those which are induced in Hysterical sub- 
jects by Emotional excitement (§ 270). 

258. Under the same head may be ranked a variety of still more 
aberrant actions, bordering on Insanity, of which the History oi 
Mankind in successive ages furnishes us with abundant examples : — 
what is common to all being the entire " possession " of those 
who perform them by some strongly- excited dominant idea, the 
intensity of which blinds the Common Sense and subjugates the 
Will, so that it expresses itself in bodily action without the least 
restraint. The notion may, or may not, be in itself an absurd 
one. It may be confined to a single individual, or it may spread 
epidemically through a multitude. It may be one that interests 
the feelings, or it may be (though seldom) of a nature purely 
intellectual. The wild but transient vagaries of religious 
enthusiasm in all ages, — as shown in the Pythonic inspiration of 
the Delphic priestesses ; the ecstatic revelations of Catholic and 
Protestant visionaries; the Flagellant processions of the 13th 
and 14th centuries ; the Preaching epidemic among the Hugue- 
nots in France, and more recently in Lutheran Sweden ; the strange 
performances of the " convulsionnaires " of St. MIdard, which have 
been since almost paralleled at " revivals " and " camp-meetings ; " 
the Dancing Mania of the Middle Ages, the Tarentism of 
southern Italy, the Tigretier of Abyssinia, and the Leaping-ague 
of Scotland in later times,* — are all, like the '* table-turning " and 
*' table-talking " epidemic, which spread through almost the whole 
•jivilized world in 1852-3, to be ranged under the same category. 

259. The following account given by Dr. Hecker of the prin- 

* On the greatei" number of the foregoing subjects, much curious information 
will be found in Dr. Hacker's account of the " Danciug Mania," forming part of 
his Treatise ** On the Epidemics of the Middle Ages," translated for the Syden- 
ham Society bj Dr. Babington. 



Dancing Mania, 313 

cipal features of the "Dancing Mania which spread through a large 
part of Middle Europe in the 14th and 15th centuries, willsei've to 
ilhistrate those forms of ideo-motor action which are intensified by 
tnwtional excitement : — 

a. * In the year 1 3 74, assemblages of men and women were Been at 
A-ix-la-Chapelle, who had come out of Germany, and who, united by 
one common jjelusion, exhibited to the pubhc, both in the streets and 
in the churches, the following strange spectacle: — They formed circles 
hand in hand, and appearing to have lost all control over their senses, 
continued dancing, regardless of the bystanders, for hours together, 
in wild delirium, until at length they fell to the ground in a state of 
exhaustion. They then complained of extreme oppression, and groaned 
as if in the agonies of death, until they were swathed in clothes bound 
tightly round their waists ; upon which they a^jain recovered, and 
remained free from complaint until the next attack. This practice of 
Bwathing was resorted to, on account of the tympany which followed 
these spasmodic ravings ; but the bystanders frequently relieved 
patients in a less artificial manner, by thumping and trampling upon 
the parts affected. While dancing they neither saw nor heard, being 
insensible to external impressions through the senses; but were 
haunted by visions, their fancies conjuring up spirits, whose names 
they shrieked out ; and some of them afterwards asserted that they 
felt as if they had been immersed in a stream of blood, which obliged 
them to leap so high. Others, during the paroxysm, saw the heavens 
open, and the Saviour enthroned with the Virgin Mary ; according aa 
the religious notions of the age were strangely and variously reflected 
in their imaginations. 

"Where the disease was completely developed, the attack com- 
menced with epileptic convulsions. Those affected fell to the 
ground senseless, panting and labouring for breath. Thej^ foamed at 
the mouth, and suddenly springing up began their dance amidst 
strange contortions. — A few months after this dancing maladv had 
made its ap2)earance at Aix-la- Chapelle, it broke out at Cologne, where 
the number of those possessed amounted to more than five hundred ; 
ftud about the same time at Metz, the streets of which place are said 
to have been filled with eleven hundred dancers. Peasants left their 
ploughs, mechanics their workshops, housewives their domestic 



314 Ideo-motor A ction, 

duties, to joiu the wild revels ; and this rich commercial city became 
the scene of the most ruinous disordei-. 

"The §t. Yitus's dance attacked people of all stations, especially 
those who led a sedentary life, such as shoemakers and tailors; but 
even the most robust peasants abandoned their labours in theii 
fields, as if they were possessed by evil spirits ; and those affectt* \ 
were seen assembling indiscriminately, from time to time, at certa'n 
appointed places, and, unless prevented by the lookers-on, continued 
to dance without intermission, until their very last breath was 
expended. Their fury and extravagance of demeanour so completely 
deprived them of their senses, that many of them dashed their braina 
out against the walls and corners of buildings, or rushed headlong 
into rapid rivers, where they found a watery grave. Bearing and 
foaming as they were, the bystanders could only succeed in restrain- 
ing them by placing benches and chairs in their way, so that, by the 
high leaps they were thus tempted to take, their strength might be 
exhausted. As soon as this was the case, they fell, as it were, 
lifeless to the ground, and, by very slow degrees, recovered their 
strength. Many there were, who, even with all this exertion, had 
not expended the violence of the tempest which raged within them ; 
but awoke with newly revived powers, and again and again mixed 
with the crowd of dancers ; until at length the violent excitement 
of their disordered nerves was allayed by the great involuntary 
exertion of their limbs ; and the mental disorder was calmed by the 
exhaustion of the body. The cure effected by these stormy attacks 
was in many cases so perfect, that some patients returned to the 
factory or the plough, as if nothing had happened. Others, on the 
contrary, paid the penalty of their folly by so total a loss of power, 
that they could not regain their former health, even by the employ- 
ment of the most strengthening remedies." — [Epidemica of the Middle 
Ages, pp. 87-104.) 

In this case we see a notable manifestation of the tendency to 
imiiation, which is, in fact, the result of the "hold" taken of the 
Mind by an idea suggested to it (§ 550) ; that hold being the 
stronger, in proportion to the want of other sources of healthful 
activity, as in the two following cases related by Zimmerman : — 
h. A Nun, in a very large convent in France, began to mew like m 



Effects of Imitative Tendency, 315 

cat ; shortly afterwards other nuns also mewed. At last all the nuns 
began to mew together every day at a certain time and continued 
mewing for several hours together. This daily cat- concert continued, 
until the nuns were informed that a company of soldiers was placed 
by the police before the entrance of the convent, and that the so i diera 
wore provided with rods with which they would whip the nuna until 
they promised not to mew any more. 

c. In the 15 th Century, a Nun in a German nunnery fell to biting 
ftil her companions. In the course of a short time, all the nuns of 
this coavent began biting each other. The news of this infatuation 
am.ong the nuns soon spread, and excited the same elsewhere ; the 
biting mania passing fiom convent to convent through a great part of 
Germany. It afterwards visited the nunneries of Holland, and even 
spread as far as Eome. — [On Solitude, YoL ii). 

Such " dominant ideas," like emotions, very commonly decline in 
intensity, when they expend their force in action (§ 2Q5), and the 
Mind spontaneously returns to its previous condition : and thus it 
is that we generally find these epidemic delusions passing-away of 
themselves, without any ostensible cause for their cessation. Some- 
times, however, such an Idea may continue to exert a dominant 
influence over the whole of life ; and if the conduct which it 
dictates should pass the bounds of enthusiasm or eccentricity, we 
Bay that the individual is the subject of Monomania. — The nature 
of this state will be more fully considered hereafter (§ 559), 



CHAPTER VII. 

OP THE EMOTIONS. 

5<i>0. Although, as we have seen (§§ 189, 190), there are varioiw 
forms of Emotional sensibility which are directly called into 
activity by Sense-perceptions, yet those Emotional states of Mind 
which directly or indirectly determine a great part of our conduct, 
belong to the level of the Ideational consciousness ; being, in fact, 
the result of the attachment of the feelings of pleasure and pain, 
and of other forms of emotional sensibility, to certain classes of 
ideas. Thus the Cerebrum and the Sensorium would seem jointly 
concerned in their production ; for whilst the Cerebral hemi- 
spheres furnish the ideational part of the material, the Sensory 
ganglia not only give us the consciousness of their result, but 
invest that result with the ^QQ.^Ai^JC feeling which renders it capable 
of actively influencing our conduct as a motive power. This we see 
clearly, when the Emotional state takes the form of a true desire ; 
for when this is felt, even as regards the gratification of a bodily 
appetite, it involves the existence of an idea of the object of desire ; 
but it is only when this idea is associated with the contempla- 
tion of enjoyment in the act to which it relates, or of discom- 
fort in the abstinence from that act, thai it becomes an impelling 
force towards the performance of it. — All the higher forms of 
Emotional consciousness may be decomposed (as it seems to \ he 
Writer) in a similar manner. Thus, Benevolence is the pleasur- 
able contemplation of the happiness or welfare of others; and 
shows itself alike in the habitual entertainment of the abstract or 
general idea, and in the direction of the conduct with a view to 
promote this result in any particular instance on which the bene 



Composite Natter e of Emotions. 3 1 7 

volent desire may be fixed. So there is a positive pleasure, in 
Bome ill-constituted minds, in the contemplation of the ^^whappinesa 
of others ; and this (of which Dickens's Quilp is an impersonation) 
we designate as Malevolence. Combativeness, again, in so far as i t 
is a Psychical attribute, is the pleasurable idea of setting one's self 
in antagonism with others. 

There are individuals who never manifest the least degree of 
physical Combativeness, who yet show a remarkable love of opposition 
iu all their psychical relations with others. That objections will 
be raised by such persons to any plan that may be proposed, we can 
always feel sure, though we may not have the remotest idea as to 
what the objection may be in each particular case. Persons in 
whom this tendency exists in a less prominent degree, are apt to see 
objections and difficulties first, although their good sense may sub- 
sequently lead them tc consider these as of less account, or to be 
outweighed by the advantages of the scheme. Such was the case 
with the late Sir Eobert Peel. On the other hand, those who are 
bpoken-of as of sanguine temperament, are apt to lose sight of the 
intervening difficulties, in the pleasurable anticipation of the result. 

So, Pride (or self-esteem) consists in the pleasurable contemplation 
of our own superior excellencies ; whilst the essence of Vanity (or 
love of approbation) lies in the pleasurable idea of the applause of 
others. ±\gain, in Conscientiousness we have the love of right, 
that is, the association of pleasure with the idea of right ; Vene- 
ration may be defined as the pleasurable contemplation of rank or 
perfections superior to our own ; and the source of Ambition, which 
is in some degree the antagonistic tendency, lies in the pleasur- 
able idea of self-exaltation. In like manner, Hope is the pleasur- 
abla contemplation of future enjoyment; Fear is the painful 
contemplation of future evil ; and Cautiousness is the combination 
of the desire to avoid anticipated pain, with the pleasurable con- 
templation (an extremely strong feeling in many individuals) of 
precautions adapted to ward it off. — The same view may be 
applied to the love of Order, of Possessions, of Country, of Wit, of 



3 1 8 Of the Emotions, 



Humour, <fec., and to many conditions usually considered as purely 
Intellectual. And, in fact, the association of any kind of that 
emotional sensihiliUj (§ 157) of which pleasure and pain afford the 
simplest type, with any idea, or class of ideas, gives to it an Emo- 
tional character ; so that emotional states are not by any means 
limited within the categories under which Psychologists have 
attempted to range them, — these being, for the most part, generic 
terms, which comprehend certain groups of ideas bearing more or 
less similarity to each other, but not by any means including all 
possible combinations. 

The truth of this statement must be apparent to all who are 
familiar with the manifestations of eccentricity and insanity ; for we 
frequently see pleasurable feelings associating themselves with Ideas, 
which to ordinary minds appear indifferent, or are even regarded with 
pain ; and thus are engendered Motives which exert a most powerful 
influence over the conduct, and which, if not kept in restraint by the 
Will, render the whole being their slave. Thus one weak-minded 
youth was driven to commit a murder, by a passion for living where 
he could see a wind-mill ; and another by a passion for possessing 
himself of every shoe of a particular kind which he chanced to see. — 
It may be also remarked, in this place, that the impossibility of 
classing all the Emotional states of mind under a limited number 
of categories constitutes a most serious and fundamental objection to 
any system which professes to mark-out in the Cerebrum distinct 
seats for the animal propensities, moral feelings, &c. 

261. By those who regard the Propensities, Moral Feelings, &c., 
as simple states of mind, it is usually said that their indulgence or 
exercise is attended with pleasure, and the restraint of them with, 
pain. But, if the view here taken be correct, it is the very co- 
existence of pleasurable or painful feelings with the idea of a given 
object, that causes desire or aversion as regards that object ; since 
the mind instinctively pursues what is pleasurable, and avoids what 
is painful. And thus, according to the readiness with which theso 
different classes of Ideas are excited in different minds (partly 



Emotional Movements. 3 ^ 9 



depending upon original constitution, and partly upon the habitual 
direction of the thoughts), and to the respective degrees in which 
they respectively call-forth the different kinds of Emotional senai- 
biHty (as to which there is obviously an inherent difference amongst 
hidividuals, analogous to that which exists with regard to the 
feelings of pleasure or pain excited by external sensations, — sights, 
B( lands, tastes, odours, or contacts), will be the tendency of the 
mind to entertain them, the frequency with which they will 
present themselves before the mental view, and the influence 
they will exert in the determination of our conduct. 

262. The influence of Emotional conditions, when strongly 
excited, in directly producing involuntary movements, is readily 
explained on the idea that the Sensory Ganglia act as the centre 
of all consciousness, and that the Axial Cord is the real source of 
all movement. For the excitement of peculiar states of the 
sensorial centres through the instrumentality of the Cerebrum, 
will just as readily give rise to automatic movements, as the 
excitement of similar states by impressions made upon the organs 
of Sense. And the correspondence is seen to be very close, 
when the idea distinctly reproduces the sensorial state. Thus, 
the laughter excited by the act of tickling is a purely consensual 
movement (§ 79) ; but, in a very "ticklish" person, the mere idea 
of tickling, suggested by pointing a finger at him, is sufficient to 
provoke it. — So, again, as laughter may be excited by odd sights 
or sounds which do not in themselves excite any ideational state, 
but which act at once upon the " sense of the ludicrous," the same 
action may be called-forth by the vivid recollection of these 
oociin'ences ; which, being attended with a state of the Sensorium 
con-esponding to that originally produced by the sensation, gives 
rise to the same involuntary cachinnation. But laughter may 
also be excited by ideas that are much more removed from actual 
sensations ; as, for example, by those unexpected combinations of 
ideas of a purely intellectual nature, which we designate a£ 
25 



320 Of the Emotions. 

"witty;" and here, too, we may recognize the very same modv^ 
operandi. For the mere sound or sight of the words excites no 
foehng of the ludicrous ; the sensation must develope an ideationdl 
change; and it is the latter alone, which, reacting downwards upon 
file Seneorium, and there becoming associated with the Emotional 
sensibility, excites the impulse to laugh. — The same miglit be 
shown to be the case with regard to the act of crying ; which may 
be either purely consensual, being excited by painful sensations ; 
or may be induced by the vivid recollection of past or the antici- 
pation of future sensations ; or may be excited by ideas which 
have no direct relation to sensational states. — Again, the move- 
ments which take place under the \dolent excitement of the passion 
of anger, are of the same involuntary character ; being directly 
prompted by feelings which may be called-up either by external 
sensations, or by internal ideas that have a like power of exciting 
them. Thus the passionate man who receives a blow, instinctively 
makes another blow in the direction from which it seemed to him 
to come, without any thought of whether the blow was accidental 
or intentional ; while the idea of an insult, which is a source of 
mental disturbance, may excite the very same movement, although 
no bodily suffering had been experienced. There are many of the 
movements of Expression that are referable in like manner to 
sensorial states, whether pleasurable or painful, which may arise 
from ideational as well as from sensational conditions. Thus, as 
we have seen (§ 156), the cheerful aspect of some individuals ia 
due to a sense of general physical well-being, and is altogether 
discomposed by anything which disturbs this ; whilst in others, it 
may proceed from a happy frame of mind (which may be paii.ly 
tbe result of original constitution, and partly of habitual self- 
direction), disposing them to take the cheerful view of everything 
that affects themselves or others, notwithstanding (it may be) great 
bodily discomfort. And the reverse aspect of gloom may in like 
manner proceed alike from bodily or from mental uneasiness. — All 



Emotional Moveine7its. 321 

these facts point, therefore, to the conclusion, that whether the 
elementary states of Emotional sensibility associate themselves 
with Sensations, with Perceptions, or with Ideas, they are simple 
Tfwdes of consciousness, the organic seat of which must be in the 
Sensorial centres ; and this corresponds well with the character of 
the purely Emotional movements, which, as we have seen, ar« 
closely allied to the Sensori-motor in the directness with w^hich 
they respond to the stimuli that excite them. 

263. That the Emotional and Volitional movements differ as to 
their primal sources, is obvious, not merely from the fact that 
they are frequently in antagonism with each other, — the Will 
endeavouring to restrain the Emotional impulse, and either suc- 
ceeding in doing so, or being vanquished by the superior force of 
the latter, — ^but also from the curious fact which Pathological 
observation has brought to light, that muscles which will still act 
in obedience to emotional impulses, may be paralysed to volitional, 
and vice versd. Thus, for example, the arm of a man affected with 
paralysis, which no effort of his will could move, has been seen to 
be violently jerked under the influence of the emotional agitation 
consequent upon the sight of a friend. And in a case of softening 
of the Spinal cord, the jerking movements which were brought-on 
by the mere approach of any one to the patient's bed, and still 
more strongly by putting a question to him, were most violent in 
the lower limbs, over which he had not the least voluntary power. 
— It is in the different forms of paralysis of the Facial nerve, how- 
ever, which is the one most peculiarly subservient to the move- 
ments of Expression (§ 195), that we have the best evidence of this 
distinctness. For it sometimes happens that the muscles supplied 
by this nerve are paralysed so far as regards the will, and yet aia 
Btill affected by emotional states of mind, and take their usual 
part in ths automatic actions of respiration, &c. ; retaining also 
their usual tension, so that no distortion is apparent unless 
voluntary movements be attempted. Thus, to select an aotian 



3^2 Of the Emotions. 



which may be performed either consensually, emotionally, os 
voluntarily, a patient affected with this form of paralysis cjianot 
close the eyelid by an act of his Will, although he winks wIkjr he 
feels the uneasy sensation that excites the action, and shuts the 
lids when the sudden approach of an object to the eye excitea the 
fear of injury to that organ. On the other hand, the paralysed 
condition may exist in regard to the Automatic and Emotional 
actions only, so that the muscles lose their tension, the mouth i8 
drawn to one side, the movements of expression are not performed, 
and there is no involuntary winking : yet the Will may still exert 
its accustomed control, and may produce that closure of the lids 
which does not take place in respondence to any other impulse.* 

264. The Emotions are concerned in Man, however, in many 
actions, which are in themselves strictly voluntary. Unless they 
be so strongly excited as to get the better of the Will, they do not 
operate downwards upon the Automatic centres, but upwards upon 
the Cerebral; supplying the motives by which the course of 
thought and of action is habitually determined (§ 331). Thus, 
of two individuals with differently-constituted minds, one shall 
judge of everything through the medium of a gloomy morose 
temper, which, like a darkened glass, represents to his judgment 
the whole world in league to injure him ; and his determinations 
being all based upon this erroneous view, its indications are ex- 
hibited in his actions, which are themselves, nevertheless, of an 
entirely voluntary character. On the other hand, a person of a 
cheerf\il, benevolent disposition, looks at the world around as 
through a Claude-Lorraine-glass, seeing everything in its brightest 
and sunniest aspect ; and, with intellectual faculties (it may be) 
{ireciBely similar to those of the former individual, he would come 
to opposite conclusions ; because the materials which form the 

' See the detailed accotints of such cases in Sir C. Bell's work ob "The 
Nervous System of the Human Body;" also **Brit. and For. Med. Uev.,' 
vol. iv. p. 500, and vol. xiii. p. 553. 



Impulsive A ction. 323 



basis of his judgment, are submitted to it in a very different con- 
dition. — Various forms of Moral Insanity exhibit the same contrast 
in a yet more striking light (§ 556) ; and the distinction between 
the mne and the insane is far more difficult to draw in this fonn of 
mental disorder, than when Intellectual perversion manifests 
itself. For we not unfrequently meet with individuals still holding 
their place in society, who are accustomed to act so much on 
impulse, and to be so little guided by the rational will, that they can 
scarcely be regarded as sane ; and a very little exaggeration of such 
impulses causes the actions to be so injurious to the individual 
himself or to those around him, that restraint is required, although 
the intellect is in no way disordered, nor are any of the feelings 
perverted. We may often observe similar inconsistencies, result- 
ing from the habitual indulgence of one particular feeling, or from 
d morbid exaggeration of it. The mother who, through weakness 
of wiU, yields to her instinctive fondness for her offspring, in 
allowing it gratifications which she knows to be injurious to it, is 
placing herself below the level of many less gifted beings. The 
habit of yielding to a natural infirmity of temper often leads into 
paroxysms of ungovernable rage, which, in their turn, pass into a 
state of maniacal excitement. The poor girl who drowns herself 
after a quarrel with her lover, or the nursemaid who cuts the 
throat of a child to whom she is tenderly attached, because her 
mistress has rebuked her for wearing too fine a bonnet, may be 
really labouring under a " temporary insanity " which drives hei 
iiresistibly to a great crime ; yet, just as the man who commits a 
murder in a state of drunken frenzy is responsible for his irresponsi- 
hiliiy (§ 545), so is the suicide or the murderess, in so far as she 
»ia6 habitually neglected to control the wayward feelings whose 
strong excitement has impelled her to the commission of her crime. — 
It not unfrequently occurs, moreover, that a delusion of the intellect 
(constitutmg what is commonly known as Monomania) has had its 
80iirce in a disordered state of \hQ feelings, which have represented 



324 Of the Emotions, 

every occurrence in a wrong light to the mind of the individiia! 
(§ 559). All such conditions are of extreme interest, when com- 
pared with those which are met- with amongst Idiots, and in animals 
enjoying a much lower degree of intelligence: for the result ia 
much the same in whatever way the balance between the feelings 
ftnd the rational will (which is so beautifully adjusted in the 
well-ordered mind of Man) is disturbed ; whether by a diminution 
of the Volitional control, or by an undue exaltation of the Emo- 
t 'ons and Passions. 

265. This double mode of action of the Emotions — downwards 
through the nerve-trunks upon the Muscular apparatus, and also 
upon many of the Organic functions (Chap. XIX), — and upivards 
upon those Cerebral actions which give rise to the higher states of 
Mental consciousness, — affords a satisfactory explanation of a fact 
which is practically familiar to most observers of Human nature ; 
namely, that violent excitement of the Feelings most speedily sub- 
sides, when these unrestrainedly expend themselves (so to speak) 
in their natural expressions. Thus it may be commonly noticed 
that those who are termed demonstrative persons are less firm and 
deep in their attachments, than those who manifest their feelings 
less : for, without any real insincerity or intentional fickleness, the 
strongly-excited feelings of the former are rapidly calmed-down by 
the expenditure of the impulse to bodily action which they have 
generated ; whilst in the latter the very same feelings, acting inter- 
nally, acquire a permanent place in the Psychical nature, and 
habitually operate as motives to the conduct. So, again, persona 
who are "quick-tempered," manifesting great irascibility upon 
small provocations, real or supposed, are usually soon appeasedj 
and speedily forget the affront ; whilst many who make little or no 
display of anger, are very apt to brood-over and cherish theii 
feelings of indignation, and may visit them upon the unfortunate 
object of them on some favourable opportunity, long after he had 
supposed that the occurrence which had given rise to them was 



Emotional Movements, 325 

forgotten. There is an instinctive restlessness, or tendency to 
general bodily movement, in some individuals, when they fire 
Buffering under Emotional excitement ; the indulgence of which 
appears to be a sort of safety-valve for the excess of Nerve-fcrce^ 
whilst the attempt at its repression is attended with an increp.se m. 
the excitement. Most persons are conscious of the diSculty of 
siLting still when they are labouring under violent agitation, and 
of the rel'.ef which is afforded by active exercise ; and this is par- 
ticularly the case when the movements are such as naturally 
express the passion that is excited. Thus the combative propen- 
sities of the Irish peasant commonly evaporate speedily with the 
free play of his shillelagh, many irascible persons find great relief 
in a hearty explosion of oaths, others in a violent slamming of the 
door, and others (whose excitement is more moderate but less 
transient) in a prolonged fit of grumbling. 

a. This view is most fully confirmed by certain phen()m.ena of 
Insanity. It is a doctrine now generally received among practical 
men, that paroxysms of violent Emotional excitement are much more 
likely to subside, when they are allowed to "work themselves off" 
freely, without any attempt at mechanical restraint ; and maniacal 
patients are now placed, in all well-managed Asylums, in padded 
rooms, in which their movements can do no injury to themselves or 
others. — The following case was related to the Writer by his friend 
Dr. Howe, of Boston, N.E., the instructor of Laura Bridgman. 
A half-idiotic youth in the Lunatic Asylum of that place, was the 
subject (like many in his condition) of frequent and violent 
paroxysms of anger ; and with the view of moderating these, it 
was suggested that he should be kept for some time every day in 
rather fatiguing exercise. Accordingly he was employed for two 
or three hours daily in sawing wood, to which task he made no 
objection ; and the paroxysms of rage never displayed themselves, 
fcicept on Sundays, when his emploj^ment was intermitted. As 
^t was considered, however, to be better for him to spend a part 
of that day in sawing wood, than to be irascible during the whole 
of it, his occupation was continued through the entire week, when 



326 Of the Emotions, 

he became completely tamed-down, and never gave any more trouble 
by bis passionate displays. 

So, ' again, if a ludicrous idea be suggested to our consoiousne3H, 
oioasioning an impulse to laugh, a hearty "guffaw" generally 
w.;rks-off the excitement, and we may be surprised a short tiois 
afterwards that such an absurdity should have provoked oui risi- 
bility ; but if we restrain the explosion, the idea continues to 
" haunt " us, and is continually perturbing our trains of thought 
until we have given free vent to the expression of it. — Again, it is 
well known that the depressing emotions are often worked-off by 
a fit of crying and sobbing ; and the " relief of tears " seems mani- 
festly due to the expenditure of the pent-up nerve-force, in the 
production of an increased secretion. It is noticed in this case, 
too, that the absence of any such external manifestations of the 
depressing emotions, gives them a much greater influence upon 
the course of thought, and upon the bodily state of the individual. 
Those who really " die of grief," are not those who are loud and 
vehement in their lamentations, for their sorrow is commonly 
transient, however vehement and sincere while it lasts ; but they 
are those who have either designedly repressed any such mani- 
festations, or who have experienced no tendency to their display ; 
and their deep-seated sorrow seems to exert the same kind of anti- 
vital influence upon the Organic functions, that is exercised more 
violently by "shock" (§ 41); producing their entire cessation 
without any structural lesion. 

h. The Writer once heard the following singular case of this kind : — 
One of two sisters, orphans, who were strongly attached to each 
other, became the subject of consumption ; she was most tenderly 
nursed by her sistei? during a long illness ; but on her death, the 
latter, instead of giving way to grief in the manner that might have 
been anticipated, appeared perfectly unmoved, and acted almost as if 
nothing had happened. About a fortnight after her sister's death, 
however, she was found dead In her bed; yet neither had there beec 



Their Tnjiueitce on Volitional Effect. 327 

any symptoms during life, nor was there any post-mortem appear- 
ance, which in the least degree accounted for this event, — of which 
no explanation seems admissible, except the depressing influence of 
her pent-up grief upon her frame generally, through the Nervous 
system. 

266. The influence of Emotional excitement may operate 
tpon the Muscles, however, not only in giving-rise to the 
DiO'p'Rmeuts which it directly calls forth, but also in afi'ectiug the 
^ower of the Will over the muscular system, by intensifying or 
weakening its action. For there can be no doubt that, under the 
strong influence of one class of feelings, the Will can efi'ect results 
such as the individual would scarcely even attempt in his calmer 
moments ; whilst the influence of another class of feelings is exer- 
cised in precisely the opposite direction, weakening or even 
paralysing the force which was previously in full activity. 

It must be within the knowledge of every one, that, when first 
attempting to perform some new kind of action, the power we feel 
capable of exerting depends in great measure upon the degree of our 
assurance of success. Of this we have a good example in the process 
of learning to swim; which is greatly facilitated, as Dr. Franklin 
pointed-out, by our first taking means to satisfy ourselves of the 
buoyancy of our bodies in the water, by attempting to pick up an 
object from the bottom. And every one is aware of the assistance 
derived from the encouragement of others, when we are ourselves 
doubtful of our powers ; and of the detrimental influence of dis- 
couragement or suggested doubt, even when we previously felt a 
considerable confidence of success. Of the almost superhuman 
strength and agility with which the body seems endowed, when the 
whole energy is concentrated upon some Nervo-muscular efibrt, 
especially under the influence of an overpowering emotion, the 
following remarkable example has been communicated to the Writer 
by a gentlemar on whom he can place full reliance, and who was 
personally cognizant of the fact : — An old cook-maid, tottering with 
age, having heard an alarm of fire, seized an enormous box con- 
taining her whole property, and ran down stairs with it, as easily as 
she would have carried a dish of meat. After the fire had been 



328 Of the Emotions. 



extinguished, she could not lift the box a hair's breadth from ♦.he 
ground, and it required two men to convey it upstairs again. 

267. But tlio same Emotion does not always act in the same mode : 
thus, the fear of danger may nerve one man to the most dai iiig 
and vigorous efforts to avert it, whilst another is rendered power- 
less, and gives-way to unavailing lamentations; and the ardent 
anticipation of success may so unsettle the determinative energy 
of one aspirant, as to prevent him from attaining his object, whilst 
another may only be sustained by it in the toilsome struggle of 
which it is the final reward. Now in order that this variety may 
be explained, and the modus operandi of the Emotions on strictly 
Volitional actions may be duly comprehended, we must here state 
two of the essential conditions of the latter : one of which is, that 
there should be not merely a distinct conception of the purpose 
to be attained, but also a belief that the purpose will or at least 
maj/ be attained ; whilst the other is, that the attention should 
be to a great extent withdrawn ftom other objects, and should 
be concentrated upon that towards which the Will is directed. 
Ths following cases illustrate these principles : — 

a. The Writer well remembers being among those, who, forty years 
ago, tested the validity of the statement put- forth in Sir D. Brewster's 
''Natural Magic," that four persons can lift a full-sized individual 
from the ground, high into the air, with the greatest facility, provided 
they all take-in a full breath previously to the eflCort, the person 
lifted doing the same. He could readily understand upon Physio- 
logical principles, that a full inspiration on the part of the lifters 
•would have a certain degreee of efficacy in augmenting their Nervo- 
muscular power ; but he could not perceive how the performance cf 
the same act by the person lifted could have any appreciable effect ; 
and while many of his acquaintances assured him that, when all the 
conditions were duly observed, the body went up " like a feather," 
and that they felt satisfied of being able to support it upon the points 
of their fingers, he found his own experience quite different. Henco 
he came to the conclusion, after much observation, that the facility 



Their Influence on Volitional Effect. 329 

afforded by this method entirely depended upon the degree in which 
it fulfilled the above-mentioned conditions, namely, the fixation of 
the attention upon the effort, and the conviction of the success of the 
niethod. Whenever the attention was distracted, and confidence 
weakened by scepticism as to the result, the promised assistance -was 
not experienced. 

6. The following little circumstance communicated to the Writer by 
a friend, is a very characteristic illustration of the same principle. 
I'Lis gentleman related that, having been accustomed in his boy- 
hood to play at bagatelle with other juniors of his family, the party 
was occasionally joined by a relative who was noted for her success 
at the game, and who was consequently much dreaded as an oppo- 
nent ; and that, on one occasion, when she was about to take her 
turn against him, he roguishly exclaimed, " Now, aunty, you will 
not be able to make a hit ; " the effect of which suggestion was, 
that she missed every stroke, — and not only at that turn, but through 
the remainder of the evening. 

268. Since, then, there is nothing which tends so much to the 
success of a Volitional effort as a confident expectation of its 
success, whilst nothing is so likely to induce failure as the appre- 
hension of it, and since the tendency of the cheerful or joyous 
Emotions is to suggest and keep-alive the favourable anticipations, 
whilst that of the depressing emotions is to bring before the view 
all the chances of failure, the former will increase the power of the 
Volitional effort, and the latter will diminish it. And they exert also 
a direct influence on the Physical powers, through the organs of cir- 
culation and respiration ; the heart's impulses being more vigorous 
and regular, and the aeration of the blood being more effectually 
performed, in the former of these conditions than in the latter. — But 
an altogether contrary effect may be produced by the operation ot 
these two classes of Emotions on the concentrative power. For 
Ihe m,ore completely the mental energy can be brought into one 
focus, and all distracting objects excluded, the more powerful will 
be the Volitional effort ; and the effect of emotional excitement will 
thus in a great degree depend upon the Intellectual constitution 



330 Of the Emotions, 

which the individual may happen to possess. For if he have a 
considerable power of Abstraction and Concentration, and a full 
conviction that he has selected the best or the only means to 
accomplish his end, the intensest fear of the consequences of failure 
will only increase the force of the motive which prompts the effort ; 
and the whole energy of which his nature is capable, will be put 
forth in the attempt. In a man of this temperament, the most 
joyous anticipation of success will produce no abatement of his 
efforts, no distraction of his attention, but will rather tend to keep 
him steady to his piu^ose until it shall have been accomplished. 
But the mind which is deficient in concentrative power is 
lamentably deranged by any kind of Emotional excitement, in 
the performance of any Volitional effort. For the fear of failure 
is constantly suggesting to him new distresses, weakens his 
confidence in any method suggested for his action, and makes 
him direct his attention, not to some fixed plan as the best 
or the only feasible one, but to any and every means that 
may present a chance of success, or may even serve to avert 
his thoughts from the dreaded catastrophe ; whilst, on the 
other hand, the joyous anticipation of success leads him to 
allow his thoughts to direct themselves towards all its agree- 
able consequences, instead of fixing his Intellectual and Voli- 
tional energy upon the means by which that success is to be 
attained. 

269. We have now to inquire into the influence which the Will 
has upon the Emotions ; — a subject of the highest importance in 
regard to the direction of the current of thought and the determm^/' 
lion of our actions. That the Will has such a power, is recogm.Ged 
m those common forms of admonition, " Control your passions," 
" Govern your temper," and the like. But the success of ita 
exertion will mainly depend upon the judiciousness of the mode in 
which it is attempted; and here, as it seems to the Writer, 
much assistance is gained from the Physiological method of studj 



Volitional Control over Emotions, 331 

which it has been his aim to develope. — In the fir&t place, it may 
be unhesitatingly affirmed that the Will has no direct power over 
tlie emotional Sensibility. We can no more avoid feeling nieriial 
*• hurt," than we can avoid feeling bodily ^^hurV But we have 
exactlj" the same power of withdrawing the attention from the 
mental "hiort," that we have of withdrawing it from bodily pain 
(§ 124), by determinately fixing it upon some other object ; and this 
i8 the mode in which (as all experience shows) the passions of 
Children, which are often excited to a degree that is out of all pro- 
portion to the exciting cause, and are but little dependent upon 
Ideational states, are most readily controlled. 

The difference between a judicious and an injudicious Mother 
or Nurse is strikingly shown in the ways in which they respectively 
deal with the most familiar incident of Child-life. When the little 
one falls down and hurts itself, and sets up the loud cry of pain and 
alarm, there are (as Sir Eobert Peel used to say), three courses open, 
— to soothe and ' coddle,' to rebuke and frighten, and to distract the 
attention by the interposition of some new object attractive enough 
to engage it. Now, the first method, however kindly meant, has 
the disadvantage of making the Child attend to its hurt, and of thus 
intensifying the feelings connected with it; which, being the very 
thing to be avoided, should never be had recourse to unless the injury 
is really serious. The second no doubt gives a motive to self- 
control ; but that motive is inappropriate to the occasion, adding 
a sense of injustice to the smart of the ^njury. Whilst the third, by 
leading the Child to transfer its attention to a more vivid and 
pleasurable impression, afibrds time for the smart to die away, and 
makes the child feel that even when fresh it can be disregarded. — As 
age advances, the judicious Parent no longer trusts to mere sensory 
impressions for the diversion of the emotional excitement ; but calls 
tip in the mind of the Child such ideas and feelings as it is capable 
of appreciating, and endeavours to keep the attention fixed upon 
these until its violence has subsided. And recourse is to be had to 
the same process, whenever it is desired to check any tendency 
to action which depends upon the selfish propensities; appeal being 
always made to the highest motives which the Child is capabla 



332 Of the Emotions, 

of recognising, and recourse being had to punishment onlj'- for the 
purpose of supplying an additional set of motives when all others fail. 
For a time this process of external Suggestion may need to be 
continually repeated, especially where there are strong impulse? 
whoso unworthy character calls for repression; but if it be judiciously 
L-dapted and constantly persevered-in, a very slight suggestion serves 
to recall the superior motives to the conflict. And in a yet more 
advanced stage, the Child comes to feel that he has himself the 
power of recalling them, and of controlling his urgent impulses to 
immediate action. 

270. In the second place, the Will 3an exert itself, as already 
shown, in preventing the expression cf the excited feelings in action ; 
by determinately bringing the Volitional control over the muscles 
to antagonize the Emotional impulse, — as in the cases already cited. 
It seems to the Writer, however, quite a mistake to suppose that 
the suppression of the muscular expression of an emotion, represses 
the emotion itself; on the contrary, as he has already shown (§ 265), 
the emotional state is more likely to last, if it does not vent 
itself in action, — unless, aS sometimes happens when persons in- 
tentionally " work themselves up into a passion," the muscular 
movements themselves operate suggestively on the mind, so as to 
augment, instead of relieving, the excitement (§ 494). This 
reaction is very manifest in persons of the Hysterical tempera,- 
ment, who, either from an injudicious system of education, ot 
from habitual want of self-control, or from bodily disorder, givo 
way to the most exaggerated and inconsistent expressions of their 
feelings, — smiles and tears, laughter and sobbing, being strangely 
intermingled, and being excited by the most trivial cause. That the 
deficiency here lies rather in the power of controlling the thoughu 
and feelings, rather than in that of directing the action of the 
muscles, appears from the fact that an Hysterical paroxysm may 
often be kept off by the threat of severe discipline; whilst, by 
judicious guidance, the patient may be led to cultivate her own 
power of repressing the first risings of the Emotional excitement, 



Volitio7tal Control over Emotions. 333 

by the determinate direction of her attention to some othei- object 
than her own feelings. 

271. But where, thirdly, the Emotion is not a mere passwn, 
but is a state ot feeling connected with some definite idea, the 
jKiwer of the Will is most effectually exerted in withdrawing the 
laind from the influence of that idea, by fixing the attention upon 
iome other The power of self-control, usually acquired in the first 
instance in regard to those Emotional imjmlses which directly prompt 
to action (§ 262), thus gradually extends itself to the habitual 
succession of the thoughts ; which, directed to the acquirement of 
knowledge in the first instance by the dominating Will of the 
instructor, who uses his pupil's love of praise or fear of punishment 
as a motive power, comes in time to be so regulated by the Ego 
himself, as to give him a great indirect power over the emotional 
sensibilities connected with them. For just as, by a determined 
effort, we restrain ourselves from laughing when laughing would 
be unseemly, so can a strong Volition keep out of view the idea 
that excites risibility, by a determined direction of the thoughts 
into another channel; as when, for example, in a place of 
worship, it fixes on the prayer or the discourse the attention 
which had been distracted by some ludicrous interruption. And 
this determinate transference of the attention affords the surest means 
of escape from the domination of thoughts and feelings which w^e 
feel it wrong to entertain. We cannot prevent the rise of these in 
our minds. As Archbishop Manning has truly said — " The memory 
of insults or great wrongs will arise in the mind, or brain, if you 
will, at the sight of the person who has outraged us ; or by 
associations of time, place, or any one of endless circumstances ; 
or, again, by the direct suggestion of others. So far, the thoughts 
[and, it may be added, the feelings prompted by them] may be 
spontaneous or involuntary on our part. Their presence in the 
mind is neither good nor evil. Their first impression on the 
mind, e^en though it become a fascination or an attraction U 



334. Of the Emotions. 



an immoral act, is not immoral, because, as yet, though the 
Thought has conceived them, the Will has not accepted them."* It 
is the acceptance of them hy the 'permission of the Will, that makes 
thorn Voluntary, and brings them within the sphere of Moral 
control; whilst it is the intentional direction of the Attention to them 
which gives them their Volitional character, and makes the Ego 
fullj responsible for whatever he may do at their prompting. — 
The experience of the Physician here comes in to the aid of the 
Psychologist, in showing how VDlitional control over Emotional 
states is best maintained : 

We will take the case of a Man who has sustained a great shock 
by the loss of a dearly-loved wife, child, or friend, a disappointed 
aflFection, or commercial ruin. His Physical condition is lowered, 
the power of his Will is weakened, the painful impression seems 
branded into his innermost nature, he cannot help feeling it most 
acutely, he seems powerless to withdraw himself from it. He may 
be exhorted to "rouse himself; " every conceivable motive may be 
suggested to him for doing so ; but all in vain. What is needed is 
the complete distraction of his attention from brooding over his mis- 
fortune ; and the force which the weakened Will cannot of ilself 
exert, must be supplied by the attractive influence of new scenes 
and persons, and the complete severance from painful associations. 
He yields himself passively to his advisers; at first "all seems 
barren, from Dan to Beersheba " ; he looks up into the dome of 
Ht. Peter's, or down into the crater of Vesuvius, and finds "nothing 
in it." But gradually his bodily health improves; he begins to 
show some interest in what he sees and hears ; and a judicious 
companion, like a good nurse, watches for every sign, and encourages 
every movement in the right direction, noticing what proves moat 
attractive, and secretly planning to bring its attractions into play. 
^fc first, the patient seems ashamed of being cheerful, and falls back 
into his moodiness, as if he felt it a duty to hug the memory of his 
lost happiness ; but these relapses, after a time, become less and lam 
frequent. He begins to find that it is really much pleasauter to 

* Contemporary Review^ Feb. 1871, p 475. 



Volitional Control over E^notions. 335 

forget himself, and to ma>ke himself agreeable to others, than it is to 
brood morosely over his troubles. With the re-invigoration of his 
bodily health, his Volitional power gradually returns ; and he comes 
to feel that lie can resist the tendency to revert to them, by determinately 
giving his attention to the objects around him. The resisting powei 
required becomes less and less, the more frequently it is exerted ; 
«nd at length the Mental health is completely restored, — the brood- 
ing tendency, however, being apt to recur, either when the Will is 
weakened by physical fatigue, or when old associations are revived 
with peculiar force and vividness. 

272. A valuable lesson may be drawn from these familiar experi- 
ences, in regard to the mode of dealing with those unrighteous 
Thoughts and Feelings, which furnish temptations to immoral action 
of any kind. The Will may put forth its utmost strength in the 
way oi direct repression, and may entirely fail; whilst by exerting 
the same amount of force in changing the direction, complete success 
may be attained. When the question is not of restraining some 
sudden impulse of excited passion, but of keeping down an 
habitual tendency to evil thoughts of some particular class, and 
of preventing them from gaining a dominant influence, it does not 
answer to be continually repeating to oneself, " I will not allow 
myself to think of this ; " for the repetition, by fixing the attention 
on the very thought or feeling from which we desire to escape, gives 
it an additional and even overpowering intensity, as many a poor 
misguided but well-intentioned suff'erer has found to his cost. The 
real remedy is to be found in the determined, effort to think of some^ 
thing else, oad to turn into a wholesome and useful pursuit the energy 
which, wro jgly directed, is injurious to the individual and to society : 
just as, in " The Caxtons," the Poacher whose love of sport ns 
fear of punishment could restrain, becomes a most valuable Bush' 
man when persuaded to accompany Pisistratus to Australia. — 
Whilst, then, the Intellectual faculties are exercised in the 
acquirement of Knowledge and in the pursuit of Truth, by the 
Volitional directiou of their own spontaneous and automatic 
26 



3 3 6 Of the Emotions. 



activity, the Moral character is formed, and the Conduct mainly 
determined, by the direction we determinately give to those 
Motive powers which give energy to all our work in life. And 
there is a strong Physiological probability that the effect of such 
habitual self-discipline does not end with the Individual, but ia 
exerted upon the Race \ the Emotional tendencies having so much 
of the character of Instincts, that the Hereditary transmission oif 
the form they have acquired may be expected in the one case as in 
Oie other (| 84), 



CHAPTER VIII. 

OP HABIT. 

5373. TnERF if no pai-t of Man's composite nature, in ^vliich 
the intimate relation between Mind and Body is more obvious, 
than it is in the formation of habitual modes of activity, whether 
Psychical or Corporeal ; the former, like the latter, being entirely 
conformable to the Laws which express the ordinary course of the 
Nutritive operations. A general knowledge of these Laws being 
therefore essential to the student of Mental Physiology, a concise 
statement of them will be here given, 

274. In the first place, it is characteristic of every living 
Organism to huild itself up according to a certain inherited type 
or pattern j so that we must attribute to its germ a " formative 
capacity," in virtue of which it turns to account both the food and 
the force which it derives from without, — Uke the Architect who 
directs the construction of an edifice, which is raised out of the 
materials brought together by one set of workmen, by means of 
the labour furnished by another. But this constructive process 
may undergo considerable modification under the influence of 
external conditions ; so that the reproduction of the parental 
model is attended with more or less of variation. This influence 
is peculiarly manifested in the lower types both of Animal and 
Vegetable life ; many of which display a remarkable polymorphism. 
Thus the germs of the simpler Fungi, falling upon different kinds of 
decomposing matter, will develop themselves into forms that difler 
BO strikingly from each other, as to have been accounted not only 
specifically but gencrically distinct. And in the case of the higher 
types, it is during the early stages of development that the niodi- 



338 Of Habit. 



fving influence of external conditions is most strongly exerted ; 
the Constitution of the individual then adapting itself to changes, 
which, when that constitution has once been fixed, are power" ess 
to aJt'^r it. Of this early modifiability no more striking example 
could be adduced, than the artificial production of Queen-bees 
from Worker-larvae (§ 59) ; the whole course of the develop- 
ment, and the subsequent life-history of the Insect, as well 
Psychical as Physical, being here determined for each individual 
by the food and nurture it receives. Although among higher 
animals we know of no case that is comparable to this in degree, 
yet there is ample evidence of the same kind of modifiability ; of 
which the following fact mentioned by Sir Charles Lyell affords a 
good example : — 

" Some of our countrymen engaged about the year 1825 in 
conducting one of the principal mining associations in Mexico, that of 
Real del Monte, carried out with them some English greyhounds 
of the best breed, to hunt the hares which abound in that country. 
The great platform which is here the scene of sport is at an elevation 
of about 9,000 feet above the level of the sea, and the mercury in 
the barometer stands habitually at the height of about 19 inches. 
It was found that the greyhounds could not support the fatigues of 
a long chase in this attenuated atmosphere, and before they could 
come up with their prey, they lay down gasping for breath ; but 
these same animals have produced whelps which have grown up, and 
are not in the least degree incommoded by the want of density in the 
air, but run down the hares with as much ease as the fleetest of their 
race in this country." — I Principles of Geology, 11th edit. vol. iL 
p. 297.) 

275. But, secondly, the building-up of the Organism of man oi 
of any one of the higher animals, is not a mere process of addition 
and extension ; for its evolution involves a continual reconstruction 
of every part of the fatric, the intimate substance of each con- 
Btituent organ being subject to rapid and incessant change. It ia 
this which makes the demand for food so much greater in propor 



Infl2ience of Modifying Conditions. 



jj' 



tiou to the size of the body during the period of growth, than 
after its completion ; the quantity of new material applied to 
actual increase, bearing but a very small proportion to that which 
ss required for the constant renewal which that increase involves.— 
Bui during the whole period of growth, there is also a development 
r»f new parts, the original plan not being completed until provision 
has been made for the perpetuation of the race, as well as for the 
continued life of the individual. And it is the special charac- 
tej'istic of Man, that the period required for the attainment of 
complete maturity is much longer in proportion to the entire term 
of life, than it is among the lower animals. During the whole of 
this period, each component part of the organism may be said to 
be undergoing a continual rejuvenescence ; which is especially shown 
in the rapidity and completeness with which the effects of injuries 
are repaired. And thus the modifi ability which is characteristic 
of the organism as a whole during its earliest stages, continues to 
show itself in each individual organ until its evolution is complete. 
Thus it is a matter of universal experience, that every kind 
of training for special aptitudes, is both far more effective, 
ar.d leaves a more permanent impress, when exerted on the 
groiving organism, than when brouglit to bear on tlie adult. The 
effect of such training is show^n in the tendency of the organ 
to "grow to" the mode in which it is habitually exercised; 
as is evidenced by the increased size and" power of particular 
sets of Muscles, and the extraordinary flexibility of Joints, 
which are acquired by such as have been early exercised in 
gymnastic performances. 

276. In the third place, after the Organism has come to its full 
ivaturity, it requires to be maintained by the constant exeicise of 
the Nutritive functions ; every exertion of its animal Force in- 
volving a '' waste of tissue," which, unless compensated by a corre- 
sponding renovation, would speedily end hi death. In fact, it 
may be said that the whole tunction of the complicated npparatuH 



340 Of Habit. 



of Organic life (§ 31), when the development of the apparatus o< 
Animal life has been once completed, is to keep it in "working 
order," and to supply it with the oxygenated blood which is 
required for the excitement of its activity (§§ 41, 42). But 
fjither, while the apparatus of Animal life is subject to '* waste " 
a« the very condition of its production of Force, that of Organiu 
life is also subject to "waste" in the course of its construc- 
tive operations; so that the entire organism needs a continual 
renovation by Nutritive action ; the rate of that renovation being 
mainly determined by the functional activity of each part, but 
the fundamental plan or law being the same throughout. Thus 
we everywhere observe a tendency to the maintenance of the 
•perfect type ; the new materials being substituted for the old in 
such a manner that, notwithstanding the incessant change in the 
actual components of the Organism, there is no change in its structure 
or composition. And this is seen most remarkably in the reparation 
of injuries; which, though not so rapid in the adult, and more 
limited in its range, is not less complete within that range than it 
is in the child. There may be said, in fact, to be a continual 
rejuvenescence throughout the whole of vigorous manhood, differing 
from that of the period of growth only in degree ; so that each 
organ has still, to a certain extent, the power of growing-to the 
mode in which it is habitually exercised. And, as Sir James 
Paget long since pointed-out, the formative power is often exer- 
cised, not only in maintaining the original type, but also in keeping 
up some acquired peculiarity ; as, for example, in the perpetuation 
of the scar left after the healing of a wound. For the tissue of 
the cicatrix grows and assimilates nutrient material, exactly as doeta 
that of the skiu which surrounds it ; and thus it not only "gro)A9 
with the growth'' of the child, but is maintained during the 
whole life of the adult. So, if a child of originally healthy con- 
stitution be subjected for a sufficient length of time to sucb 
injurious physical conditions as produce a tendency to some par 



Influence of Modifying Conditions, 341 

ticular type of disease, by modifying the normal course of Nutritive 
action, such tendency (known in Medicine as a diathesis), unless 
early counteracted, not only tends to establish itself during the 
life of the individual, but to transmit itself hereditarily to the 
offspring (§ 299). If, on the other hand, a child should inherit such 
a constitutional tendency, it is during the period of growth and 
dsvelopment that appropriate treatment is most efficacious in the 
removal of it, by restoring the healthy play of the nutritive 
functions. 

277. Familiar as these general facts are, their special application 
to the Physiology of Habit has not been generally apprehended. 
There is no part of the Organism of Man, in which the reconstructive 
activity is so great, during the whole period of life, as it is in the 
ganglionic substance of the Brain. This is indicated alike by the 
enormous supply of Blood which it receives (for of that large 
amount which goes to the brain as a whole, § 40, by far the 
greater proportion is distributed to the "grey matter" of the Cere- 
bral convolutions, of the Sensorial centres, and the Cerebellum); by 
the evidence famished by the presence of the products of its 
oxidation in the excretions, that it undergoes a "waste" pro- 
portioned to the demand made upon its functional activity ; and 
by those Microscopic appearances of its tissues, which mark a 
rapid succession of developmental changes whereby that " waste" 
is repaired. It is, moreover, a fact of great significance, that the 
Nerve-substance is specially distinguished by its reparative power. 
For whilst injuries of other tissues (such as the Muscular) which 
are distinguished by the speciality of their structure and endow* 
Events, are repaired by substance of a lower or less special' 
itai type, those of Nerve-substance are repaired by a com- 
y>leb.3 reproduction of the normal tissue; as is evidenced in 
the sensibility of the newly-forming skin which is closing over 
an open wound, or in the recovery of the sensibility of a 
piece of " transplanted" skin, which has for a time been rendered 



342 Of Habit. 



insensible by the complete interruption of the continuity of 
its nerves, The most remarkable example of this reproduc- 
tion, however, is afforded by the results of M. Brown- 
Sequard's experiments upon the gradual restoration of the func- 
tional activity of the Spinal Cord after its complete division ; 
which takes place in a way that indicates rather a reproductkn 
of the whole of the lower part of the Cord and of the Nervea 
proceeding from it, than a mere reunion of divided surfaces (§ 72). 
This reproduction is but a special manifestion of the reconstructive 
change which is always taking place in the Nervous system; it 
being not less obvious to the eye of Reason, that the "waste" 
occasioned by its functional activity must be constantly repaired 
by the production of new tissue, than it is to the eye of Sense, that 
such reparation supplies an actual loss of substance by disease or 
injury. 

278. Now in this constant and active reconstruction of the 
Nervous system, we recognize a most marked conformity to the 
general plan already shown to be manifested in the Nutrition of 
the Organism as a whole. For, in the first place, it is obvious that 
there is a tendency to the production of a determinate type of 
structure ; which type is often not merely that of the Species, but 
some special modification of it which characterized one or both of 
the progenitors. But this type is peculiarly liable to modification 
during the early period of life ; in which the functional activity of 
the Nervous system (and particularly of the Brain) is extraordi- 
narily great, and the reconstructive process proportionally active. 
And this modifiability expresses itself in the formation of the 
Mechanism by which those secondarily-automatic modes of Move- 
ment come to be established, which, in Man, take the place of 
those that are congenital in most of the animals beneath him 
(§§ 191-194) ; and those modes of Sense-perception come to bo 
acquired, which are elsewhere clearly instinctive (§§ 160-184). For 
there can be no reasonable doubt that, in both cases, a Nervous 



Formation of the Nervous Mechantsfn. 343 

Mechanism is developed in the course of this self-education, 
correr.pondiiig with that which the lower animals inherit from 
their parents. The pZa?i of that rebuilding process, which ia 
necessary to maintain the integrity of the organism generally 
(§ 276), and which goes on with peculiar activity in this portion 
of it, is thus being incessantly modified ; and in this manner all 
that portion of it which ministers to the external life of sense and 
motion that is shared by Man with the Animal kingdom at large, 
becomes at adult age the expression of the habits which the 
individual has acquired during the period of growth and develop- 
ment. Of these Habits, some are common to the race generally, 
whilst others are peculiar to the individual ; those of the former 
kind (such as walking erect) being universally acquired, save 
where physical inability prevents ; whilst for the latter a special 
training is needed, which is usually the more effective the 
earlier it is begun, — as is remarkably seen in the case of such 
feats of dexterity as require a conjoint education of the per- 
ceptive and of the motor powers. And when thus developed 
during the period of growth, so as to have become a part of the 
Constitution of the adult, the acquired mechanism is thenceforth 
maintained in the ordinary course of the Nutritive operations, 
BO as to be ready for use when called-upon, even after long in- 
action (§ 194). 

^79. What is so clearly true of the Nervous Apparatus of 
Animal Life, can scarcely be otherwise than true of that which 
ministers to the automatic activity of the Mind. For, as already 
Bhown, the study of Psychology has evolved no more certain result, 
than that there are uniformities of mental action, which are so 
entirely conformable to those of bodily action, as to indicate their 
intimate relation to a " Mechanism of Thought and Feeling," 
acting under the like conditions with that of Sense and Motion. 
The Psyciiical principles of association (§ 218), indeed, and the 
Physiological principles of nutrition (§§ '11 C)-!), simply express — 



344 Of Habit 



the former in terms of Mind, the latter in terms of Brain — the uni- 
versally admitted fact, that any sequence of mental action which 
has been frequently repeated, tends to perpetuate itself ; so that 
we find ourselves automatically prompted to thirik^ feel, or do what 
we have been before accustomed to think, feel, or do, under liks! 
droumstances, without any consciously-formed purpose, or antici- 
pation of results. For there is no reason to regard the Cerebrum 
as an exception to the general principle, that, whilst each part of 
the organism tends to form itself in accordance with the mode in 
which it is habitually exercised, this tendency will be especially 
strong in the Nervous apparatus, in virtue of that incessant regene- 
ration which is the very condition of its functional activity. It 
scarcely, indeed, admits of doubt, that every state of ideational 
consciousness which is either very strong or is habitually repeated, 
leaves an organic impression on the Cerebrum ; in virtue of which 
that same state may be reproduced at any future time, in re- 
spondence to a suggestion fitted to excite it (§ 363). And this 
Psychical response, which is for the Cerebrum what a secondarily 
automatic movement is for the sensori-motor apparatus, no less 
certainly depends (in the view of the Physiologist) upon a reflex 
action of the Cerehrum (§ 94), than does an habitual Movement on 
the reflex action of the Axial Cord. 

280. The " strength of early associations " is a fact so univer- 
sally recognized, that the expression of it has become proverbial ; 
and this precisely accords with the Physiological principle, that, 
during the period of growth and development, the formative 
activity of the Brain will be most amenable to directing influences. 
It is in this way that what is early " learned by heart " becomes 
branded-in (as it were) upon the Cerebrum; so that its "traces" 
are never lost, even though the conscious memory of it may have 
completely faded-out (§ 344). For when the organic modificatio5i 
has been once fixed, in the growing Brain, it becomes a part of thii 
uormal fabric, and is regularly maintained by nutritive substitu- 



Fixation of Mental Habit, 345 

tion ; so that it may endure to the end of life, like the scar of a 
wound (§ 276). And there is strong reason for believing that 
ttuch impressions may unconsciously modify our ordinary course 
'A Thought and Feeling (§ 441) ; while they may themselves be 
unconsciously modified by it, so as, when awakened to act vity 
after a long period of " latency," to express themselves in a form 
different from that of the experiences which they originally 
recorded (§ 365). 

281. On the other hand, from the time that the Brain baa 
attained its full maturity^ the acquirement of new modes of action, 
and the discontinuance of those which have become habitual, are 
alike difficult. Both the Intellectual and the Moral character 
Lave become in great degree fixed ; so that, although new impres- 
sions are being constantly received, they have much less power in 
directing the course of Psychical action than they had at an earlier 
period, — that course being henceforth rather determined by the 
established uniformities, and by the Volitional power of selective 
attention ( § 131). The readiness with which new Knowledge is 
now acquired, depends much more upon the degree in which it 
" fits-in " with those previous habits of thought, which are the 
expression of the nutritive maintenance of the Cerebral mechanism, 
than it does upon the recording power which expresses a new 
formation; and the record made of it is generally rather that 
of the results of a certain Mental process (involving, it may be, 
a long sequence of operations), than of the steps of the process 
itself. Thus nothing is more common than for a man to say, when 
questioned for the grounds of a confident opinion he may have 
gi^en upon a particular point, — " I know that I carefully studied 
the subject before arriving at that opinion ; but I have entirely 
forgotten the reasons which led me to form it." The fixity which 
cei-tain modes of mental activity acquire by habit, is most remark- 
ably shown by the phenomena of Dreaming and Somnambulism ; 
in which states the Cerebrum works automatically^ without any 



346 Of Habit. 



Volitional control. For there is ample evidence that just ai, in 
these states, the intense direction of the consciousness to the in- 
dications of the " muscular sense " may guide the Movements 
with extraordinary precision (the distracting influence of visioD 
being for the time suspended, § 192), so the complete engrossment 
Df the consciousness by a particular series of Cerebral changes, 
without any distracting influences, enables those changes to proceed 
with more sequential regularity, and thus to evolve a more satis- 
factory result, than if they were liable to be disturbed either by 
new sense-impressions, or by volitional interference. But in all 
such cases, the automatic action follows the course of the habitual 
lines of Thought, and expresses the result of the whole of that pre- 
vious training and discipline of the Intellect, which has been carried 
on under Volitional direction. The Lawyer could not have written 
in his sleep a lucid opinion, unravelling the perplexities of a com- 
plicated case, if he had not assiduously cultivated the mental 
habit by which it was elaborated. Nor could the Mathematician 
in the same state have not merely executed with perfect correct- 
ness a lengthened computation, the complexity of which had baffled 
him in the waking state, but found out a much more direct meana 
of obtaining the result, if his previous training had not been of a kind 
to develope this particular form of reasoning power. Nor could 
the Preacher have composed a well-constructed discourse, nor the 
Poet have evolved an imaginative but consistent and rhythmical 
series of verses, unless the special faculty required by each had 
been previously cultivated. (See §§ 2'ild, 487.) 

282. During the Decline of life, the influence of early habits 
Ri\d associations often asserts itself in a veiy remarkable degree ; 
those which have been formed during the middle period being 
retained with far less of tenacity. And thus it happens that the 
knowledge last acquired is often foigotten^rs^ ; whilst that which 
was earliest learned is retained to the latest period. " I am too old 
to learn" is the continual lament of the nged ; the cases in wbicl> 



Habit in Animals, 347 

the Intellectual activity is retained to such a degree as to enable 
new forms of thought to be acquired at an advanced period of life, 
being very rare. — Now this is in precise accordance with the Phy- 
siological ffict, that Decline essentially consists in the diminu" 
tion of the formative activity of the organism ; which no longer 
serves even for the maintenance of the Cerebrum, according to the 
model into which it has gradually shaped itself; so that whilst new 
m">difi cations of the acquired type are scarcely possible, even those 
of long standing tend to fade away, the original type being the 
most enduring. 

283. Our best illustrations of the Physiology of Habit are derived 
from cases in which certain actions, or series of actions, determined 
hj Psychical (cerebral) changes, take place with the least inter- 
ference from Volitional direction. Such illustrations are afforded 
by observation of the lower Animals, of Children, and of Idiots. 
— The whole training of a Horse or a Dog to particular per- 
formances, proceeds on the Psychological principle of *' contiguous 
association " ; a set of secondarily-automatic sequences being thus 
established in the actions of its nervous mechanism, by which a 
certain response is evoked from it, in accordance with each sugges- 
tion to which the animal has been taught to attend. And the 
tendency of any such series of changes, once established by use, 
to perpetuate itself organically, is very curiously evidenced by the 
recurrence of particular actions at fixed intervals of time, without 
any means of consciously determining its passage, or any incidents 
that can suggest the return of the period. 

Thus a Dog that has been accustomed to receive food at a certain 
hour and place every day, will come in quest of it with extraordinary 
punctuality. — The Writer once knew a similar fact in the case of a 
Swan, which came and tapped with its beak at the door of a cottage 
at which it received a supply of food, at a certain hour every after- 
noon. — In like manner, in a family known to the Writer, a Dog, 
which was accustomed to be washed — to its great dislike — once a 
fortnight, always kept out of the way on ** washing day"; iti 



348 Of Habit. 



absence being frequently noticed, and the meaning of it inquired 
into, before the return of tbe day had been thought of. — So 
the Horse of a commercial traveller, after going the same journey 
a few times, is often known to stop of himself at the housea 
of tho customers, and to stand still for the length of time during 
which his master's visit usually lasts, becoming restless if it is 
prolonged ; and, if pulled up at a new point on one journey, 
to stop of his own accord at the same point on the next. (See 
also § 82 <^.) 

284. The passage of Time would seem to be measured in these 
cases, — as in another to be presently cited (§ 286), — by that uncon- 
scions chronometry which determines the duration of Sleep in 
those who can fix the time of their awaking (§ 481) ; this chrono- 
metry being probably dependent, as was pointed-out by Sir James 
Paget, on some sequence of organic changes of which the body is 
the subject. And thus, when the relation of any particular action 
to some definite lapse of time has once become fixed by association, 
the action tends to recur automatically, at the intervals determined 
by habit. There is, however, a considerable difference among indi- 
vidual animals, as to the readiness with which such associations 
are formed ; some having a much more methodical tendency than 
others. 

285. No one who observes with intelligence the gradual evolu- 
tion of the Mind in young Children, can fail to see how constant 
is the anticipation that what has happened a few times, will recur 
ao-ain under the like circumstances ; and how independent is the 
sense of dissatisfaction at the non-recurrence, of any idea of graii- 
Hcation to be derived from the occurrence itself. This becomes 
peculiarly obvious in those " children of a larger growth," who, 
from want of general culture and of volitional power, have become 
the slaves of routine ; their whole course of thought and action 
being determined rather by what they have been " used to,*' than 
by what even ordinary Common Sense would tell them was the 
best for themselves. 



Infltcence of RoiUine : — Habit in Idiots. 349 

Thus the Writer knew a case in which a family reduced to absolute 
want during a long depression of trade and manufactures, declined 
a supply of excellent soup, thickened with barley, merely because 
"they hadn't been used to barley"; and were only brought to 
accept it " under protest" by a twenty-four hours' fast. — Again, it 
v/as stated by the able Eeporter on the Printed Cottons exhibited in 
the International Exhibition of 1851, that the great obstacle to the 
improvement of designs lay with the buyers, not with the manu- 
facturers ; for that the attempt to introduce the least variation in the 
patterns of the cheap prints worn by females of the humbler classes 
had invariably failed ; no print being extensively bought by them 
that departed in the least degree from the pattern which long habit 
had worked-in (so to speak) upon their brain. — And, quite recently, 
the Writer has been assured by a large Outfitter, that all his 
workwomen in a particular department refused to work for a fort- 
aight, merely because they were required to make a slight alteration 
(not productive of the least additional trouble to themselves) in the 
pattern of a particular garment. 

28G. The unreasoning folly shown in these and similar cases of 
tenacious adhesion to long-established Habits, indicates the strength 
of the organic tendency which produces the persistence ; and 
this is quite conformable to what the Physiological principles 
already stated would lead us to anticipate. The tendency is 
sometimes shown with peculiar force in Idiots, whose whole course 
of Mental action may be regarded as automatic^ the power of 
Volitional control having never been acquired. 

The following account was given by Miss Martineau, of a youth 
under her own observation, who, in consequence of early injury to the 
brain, never acquired the power of speech, or of understanding the 
language of others, or of in any way recognizing other minds ; but 
was at the same time strongly aflFected by sensory impressions. ** He 
could endure nothing out of its position in space or its order in time. 
If any new thing was done to him at any minute of the day, the samt 
thing must he done at the same minute every day thenceforward.^* Thus, 
although he disliked personal interference, his hair and nails having 
been one day cut at ten minutes past eleven, the next day and every 



550 Of Habit. 



day after, at ten minutes past eleven, lie "as if by a fate," broug'lit 
comb, scissors, and towel ; and it was necessary to cut a snip of hair 
before he would release bimself. Yet he had no knowledge whatever 
of the measurement of time by clocks and watches, and was no less? 
minutely punctual in his observances when placed beyond the reacli 
©f these aids. So in regard to form, number, and quantity, hiis 
actions were equally methodical. He occupied himself much iu 
making paper-cuttings, which were remarkable for their symmetry. 
If, when he was out of the room, a brick were taken from the heap 
with which he amused himself, he would pass his hand over them, 
spread them a little, and then lament and wander about till the 
missing one was restored. If seven comfits had once been put into 
his hand, he would not rest with six ; and if nine were given, he 
would not touch any until he had returned two. — [Letters on the Laws 
of Man's Nature and Development, p. 71. See also Household Words, 
vol. ix. p. 198.) 

287. The tendency to Habitual action is so -universally recog- 
nized as an important part of our Psychical nature, that Man has 
been said to " be a bundle of habits." Where the Habits have 
been judiciously formed in the first instance, the tendency is an 
extremely useful one, prompting us to do that spontaneously, 
which might otherwise require a powerful effort of the Will. 
This is especially the case with regard to habits of Intellectual 
exertion, which are in themselves peculiarly free from any 
Emotional complication. The Author can speak from long and 
varied experience, of the immense saving of exertion which arises 
from the formation of methodical habits of mental labour ; which 
cause the ordinary routine to be performed with a far less amount 
of fatigue, than would be required on a more desultoiy system 
^^ 228). Even here, however, care should be taken to avcid 
aDowing oneself to be so much the " slave of habit," that all 
mental labour, save that which is undertaken at a particular 
time, or in a particular place, becomes difficult and wearisome. 
. — But, on the other hand, if a bad set of Hiibits have grown-up 



Habit of Self -discipline. 351 

with the growth of the individual, or if a single bad tendency be 
allowed to become an habitual spring of action, a far stronger 
efibrt of Volition will be required to determine the conduct in 
opposition to them. This is especially the case, when the habitual 
idea possesses an Emotional character, and becomes the source of 
desires (§ 261) ; for the more frequently these are yielded-to, the 
more powerful is the solicitation they exert. And the Ego may at 
last be so completely subjugated by them, as scarcely to retain 
any power of resistance ; his Will being weakened by the habit of 
yielding, as the Desire gains strength by the habit of acting upon it. 

288. We have thus a definite Physiological rationale for that 
"government of the thoughts," which every Moralist and Re- 
ligionist teaches to be the basis of the formation of right character, 
and therefore of right conduct. And the Writer cannot but 
believe that there are many upon whom the essentiality of Intel- 
lectual and Moral discipline will be likely to impress itself with 
greater force, when they are enabled thus to trace out its Physical 
action, and to see that in the Mental as in the Bodily organism, 
the present is the resultant of the past ; so that whatever we learn, 
think, or do in our Youth, will come again in later life either as a 
Nemesis or as an Angel's visit. 

289. Whilst, then, every one admits the special strength of those 
early impressions which are received when the Mind is most 
"plastic," — most fitted to receive and retain them, and to 
embody them (as it were) into its own Constitution, — the 
importance of rightly directing the hahits of thought and 
feeling during the whole stage of Bodily growth, comes to be 
Btil" more apparent, when we regard these habits as really 
ihapmg that Mechanism, whcse subsequent action mainly deter- 
mines our Intellectual and Moral character, and, consequently, the 
whole course of ovc conscious lives. For large as is the 
'jifluence which the steady exertion of the adult Will, under 
the guidance of an elevated Moral sense, and of a judgment 

27 



352 Of Habit. 



matured by experience, can exert in directing and sustaining the 
activity of that mechanism, the Ego can only utilize the meani 
which it furnishes ; the formation of the mechanism being greatly 
dependent upon the se(/-discipline exerted during the staga 
of adolescence. But the very possession of such self-disciplining 
power greatly depends on the right exercise, in a yet earlier stage, 
of the Will, the Moral sense, and the Judgment of the Educator ; 
gave where the discipline of " circumstances '* has called into activity 
the best parts of the Child's nature, and has given them the most 
healthful training. There is nothing, for example, more remarkable 
than the extraordinary power of thoughtful self-direction^ or more 
beautiful than the complete moral self-abnegation, which is often 
shown by a very young girl, upon whom the charge of a still younger 
family has fallen, through the prolonged ill-health or death of the 
mother. On the other hand, nothing is more mischievous than 
the wrongly-directed, though well-intended, discipline often admin- 
istered by Parents and Teachers who are ignorant of the funda- 
mental facts of child-nature (§ 120) ; unless it be the education 
of the Volitional power by " circumstances " that guide it in the 
worst instead of the best direction. 

290. It has been from the depth of his conviction as a 
Physiologist and Psychologist, of the inseparable relation between 
Corporeal and Mental action, that the Writer has been led, during 
a life of Educational occupation, to what he may call the Scientific 
study of that relation, as manifested within the range of his own 
observation. And the following outline attempts to systematize the 
general result of the experience thus acquired, on the basis of th<j 
rationale afforded by the Physiological doctrine of " Unconscioub 
C«irebration," or, in the language of German Psychologists, the 
" Preccnscious Activity of the Soul,'' hereafter to be expounded 
(Chap, XIII.). To himself it seems comparatively unimportant 
whether the doctrine be expressed in terms of Physiology or in terms 
of Metaphysics ; if the principle be duly recognized, and the enor 



Order and Regularity, 353 

mous practical importance of directing the " preconscions " activity 
through the Physical nature be admitted and systematically acted 
p'n, — especially in that very earliest stage of Infant Educatioc, 
which lays the foundation for the Intellectual and Moral Habits of 
the conscious Life. For as Physiology teaches that external 
agencies exert their most potent influences on the bodily 
Organism during the period of its development, so Educational 
experience proves that nothing exerts so great an influence 
on the psychical Organism, as what may be called the moral 
atmospliere which is breatlied by it, from the very earliest 
stage of conscious existence, up to the time of its full maturity. 
This influence — exerted, on the one hand, through the medium 
of the body, on the other, through the unconscious action 
of example, in shaping these habits of Feeling which give the tone 
to the character, — is far more potent than is generally supposed ; and 
commencing in the Nursery, it prolongs itself alike in the Home 
and in the School, through the whole period of Childhood and 
youth, and by no means dies out in Adult age. What may be 
termed the composition of that x^tmosphere, is, therefore, of 
fundamental importance ; and the following appear to the Writer 
to be the constituents which science and experience alike 
recommend : — 

(i.) Order and Regularity. — This should begin even with Inf mt 
life, as to times of feeding, repose, &c. The bodily habit thus 
formed, greatly helps to shape the mental habit at a later period. 
On tlie other hand, nothing tends more to generate a habit of self- 
indulgence, than to feed a child, or to allow it to remain out of bed, 
at ur.seasonable times, merely because it cries. It is wonderful how 
Boon the actions of a young Inf\nt (like those of a young Dog 01 
I lor-se), come into harmony with systematic " training," judiciondy 
exercised. 

The following little incident affords an apposite illustration of the 
principle just stated, as well as a useful example of the kiiiJ of 



354 Of Habit, 



Nursery- discipline above advocated. — The first child of a young 
mother was accustomed, before being put into his cradle for his mid- 
day sleep, to be "hushed off" in the arms of his mother or his 
nurse. But having been told that this was an undesirable practice, 
his mother, wishing +o break him of the habit, one day laid him 
down awake in his cradle, and remained behind the head of it, so aa 
to be out of the infant's sight. He screamed so long and so violently, 
that several times she almost relented, fearing that he would injure 
himself; but she had firmness to persevere ; and after a while the 
child ** cried himself to sleep." Next day the screaming-fit waa 
much shorter, and on the following day shorter still ; and in a few 
days the child ceased to cry when laid down, and never did so again. 
Now the child was too young to have learned by any process of 
reasoning upon conscious experience, that, as crying was of no use, 
it might as well keep quiet ; but its nature simply adapted itself to 
the change of circumstances. And in the case of four other children 
afterwards successively brought up in the same nursery, the habit 
was established from the beginning. 

Again, while an Infant of a few months old, being allowed to sleep 
with its mother, and suckled by her every time that it wakes and 
cries, contracts not only a habit of wakefulness, but an organic long- 
ing (so to speak) for the accustomed solace, another that is kept 
away during the night from the smell of the milk (which seems to 
be the immediate provocative), will soon accustom itself to be fed at 
stated intervals only, and will only wake at these. 

And so, in those later stages in which the conscious influence of Order 
and Regularity comes to exert itself, there is still an unconscious 
persistence of the habits early shaped upon them, which tends to 
repress desire in that earliest phase in which it has not shaped itself 
into a definite idea. Every one who has been practically engaged 
in Education, well knows the Moral value of orderly discipline ; but 
few are fully aware of the enormous influence which it uncon- 
Bciously exercises over the formation of that " Mechanism of 
Thought and Feeling," which determines a large part of our 
conscious life. 

Tho Writer has been thus led to regard Military Drill as ai) 



Order and Reg ularity. 355 



important part of Education ; not merely as promoting a healthy 
physical development, and as preparing every youth, if occasion 
should require, to serve in the ranks of National defenders ; but 
even more for the Moral value of the enforcement of strict order and 
discipline, and prompt obedience to the "word of command." This 
\& especially seen in those Industrial Schools and Reformatories, the 
boys in which have been previously accustomed to a life of uncon- 
trolled freedom. That they have a power of ae?/- control, seems to 
them an entirely new idea ; and there is no better way of bringing 
it to their apprehension, than this systematic " playing at soldiers," 
in which they usually feel a great enjoyment. — It may be further 
remarked that the whole system of " making a soldier " out of a raw 
recruit, proceeds upon the same principle of the unconscious forma- 
tion of acquired Instincts, through the combined action of bodily 
and mental Habit. The "pluck" by which the British Soldier is 
especially distinguished, is clearly as much Physical as Psychical ; 
and much of it seems to depend on the un/elt sense of mutual 
support, which is derived from the maintenance of order. Every 
officer of experience knows full well that if the " formation " of the 
British ranks is once "broken," a panic sauve qui peut is almost 
certain to spread; and that the success of a " storm" mainly depends 
upon whether the "forlorn hope" by which it is led, can "form" 
within the fortress. The determined maintenance of the admirable 
" formation " in squares, directed by Wellington, was what enabled 
the inferior British force to hold its ground at Waterloo until the 
Prussians came up ; whilst the failure of the first attack upon the 
Eedan at Sebastopol, was attributed by the officers concerned in it 
to the impossibility of "forming" the men who had gained an 
entrance into the fortress. — This Moral influence of discipline was 
never more grandly exhibited, than in the manner in which tho 
soldiers on board the "Birkenhead" went to their death ; while the want 
Df it was as sadly shown in the behaviour of the " navvies " on board 
the " Northfleet." Yet the " raw material " of the latter was just aa 
good as that of the former ; and a few months' drill would probably 
have turned out as good a product. The Writer does not agree with 
the "Spectator" (Jan 25, 1873) in regarding this influence as 
exercised through the ideational and moral consciousness. For it 
seems to him to operate much more directly, through a channel 



;56 Of Habit 



which has been formed by habit, without any distinct consciousness 
of the how and the icliy. Herodotus tells us that the Scythian 
warriors, returning victorious from a campaign, found that their 
slaves had risen in their absence, and had fortified themselves in a 
stronghold from which it would have been very difficult to dislodge 
them bj'- force ; but that they lost all their courage at the cracking of 
theii masters' whips, which terrified them into submission. In this 
case — as also, after the battle of Gravelotte, when the riderless horses 
assembled at the bugle-call, — there was surely nothing higher than 
an immediate automatic- response to the sound which had habitually 
called it forth ; that response being Emotional in the one case, 
Motorial in the other. 

But, with the advance of years, and the development of the 
power of 5eZ/-control, the aim should be rather to foster its 
independence by relaxing external coercion, so far as may prove 
safe, than systematically to restrain the healthy spontaneity of 
the individual within trammels that tend to become formal and 
mechanical ; the consequence of such prolonged restraint too often 
being, that when the individual is freed from it, he runs altogether 
wild, through not having been trained in the habit of se^/-dis- 
cipline. 

(ii.) With the preceding, there naturally connects itself the 
principle of Duty or Obligation ; which, indeed, grows up as the 
internal correlative to the external coercion. The child very early 
3omes to feel what it ought to do ; and this sense of obligation, 
which at first has its Mother or its Nurse as its object, extends 
itself after a while to its Father and its Schoolmaster ; the feeling 
of Duty becoming religious, when the notion of obligation to an 
unseen Power is first comprehended. Now the child is uncon- 
scio2isly impressed, lonf>: before it distinctly shapes out an idea of 
the fact, by the manifestation of this sense of duty on the part of 
those around it ; and is very quick to perceive what it supposes 
(perhaps wrongly) to be a departure from it. And while every 
Buch example tends unconsciously to weaken the feeling on the parf 



Sense of Obligation, 357 

of the child, the unconscious influence of steady persistence, espe- 
cially when the child is made aware that such persistence is dis- 
agreeable, is enormous. Particularly is this the case with respect 
to Punishment ; for when the child can be brought to feel that ita 
infliction is not vindictive, but is prompted only by a sense of duty, 
and is guided by love, so that it is as painful to the Parent as it 
is to the Child, the basis is unconsciously laid for the habit of trust- 
hil submission to the life-discipline of an All- wise and All-merciful 
Father. But here, again, it is essential to healthful development, 
that with the advance of years this submission, even to Duty, 
should not be maintained in its slavish form ; but that the growth 
of that highest form of submission should be fostered and encour- 
aged, which consists in the identification of our own Will with the 
Divine (§ 338). 

(hi.) In order that the feeling of Duty may be led to develop 
itself into notions of Right and Justice^ it is essential that the 
Moral atmosphere should be pervaded by those attributes. Tiiere 
is in most Children a very strong instinctive sense of their 
won rights, or what they consider to be such; the action of 
which is so admirably delineated in the " Rejected Addresses," 
that the description, in " The Baby's Debut," of the nursery 
quarrel it provoked, is almost worthy of the great Poet whom it 
parodied : — 

** This made Mm cry with rage and spite : 

Well, let him cry, it serves him right. 
A pretty thing, forsooth ! 

If he's to melt, all scalding hot, 

Half my doll's nose, and I am not 
To draw his peg-top's tooth." 

And respect for the rights of others is one of the earliest lessons 
iishich the child has to be taught through his consciousness. But 
ci*dt lesson is fai more effectual, when the preparation for it haa 
been made, and the illustration of it afforded, by the habitual 
example of the elders of the family ; that of older brothers and 



358 Of Habit. 



gisteis being in this respect (as in many others) even more tm- 
'pressive than that of parents, whom the child is apt to regard un- 
consciously as in a distinct category from itself. Hence arises the 
vast importance of giving a right direction to the character of tha 
first child in a family ; and those who have had the opportunity of 
observing the immense influence, either for good or for evil, which 
that example insensibly as well as sensibly exerts, will fully 
confirm the Writer's estimate of its importance. — It is wonderful 
how powerfully what may be called the current of daily life carries 
along with it, without any consciousness of its influence, those who 
are subject to it. Thus, in a Household, or in a School, where 
order and regularity prevail, and where the sense of duty is pre- 
dominant, the preference of duty to pleasure comes to be the 
general habit ; the lessons are prepared as a " matter of 
course," before mere amusement (proper intervals of recreation 
being presupposed) is had recourse to ; and no written rule, or 
system of punishments, to enforce it, is found requisite. The Child's 
knowledge (when it comes to think on the matter) that its 
neglect or carelessness as to the preparation of lessons will give 
pain to a Parent whom it loves, unconsciously determines its habit 
of application ; and the Schoolboy's feeling towards a Master who 
has acquired his respect and confidence, instinctively governs his 
whole conduct towards him. " It*s a shame to tell Arnold a lie, 
because he always believes one," was the resultant of a very large 
number of impressions made by the character of that noble type 
of an educator upon the mind of the lad who gave utterance to 
this oft-quoted phrase ; and if these impressions could be sepa- 
rately reviewed, it would assuredly be found that the operation of 
many of them had never distinctly come before the consciousnesa 
of their recipient. 

Of one who, within a narrower sphere, exercised a power probably 
not inferior to Arnold's " of commanding the reverence and reconsti- 
tuting the wills, of the least manageable class of human beings," it wua 



Sense of Right a^id Jtcstice. 359 

©aid by one of his most distinguished pupils, whose own r»haracter 
rendered him peculiarly amenable to that influence, *' I Lave often 
reflected on this singular power, and tried to make out where the secret 
of it lay. Though there were doubtless cases which it could not reach, 
it daily achieved triumphs which most teachers would believe impos- 
sible."* He traces it mainly to the combination of great and varied 
Intellectual power, acting through well-formed habits of thought^ 
with profound sense of right pervading the whole life and conver- 
sation, and with the insight derived from a thorough and affectionate 
sympathy with boy-nature, quickened by a temperament of peculiar 
vivacity. " The spirit of duty in his house was no withered ghost of 
custom, but such a living reality as it befalls few to witness. Though 
the machinery of rules and habits devised for the maintenance of 
punctuality and order was more complicated and extensive thax. I have 
ever seen in operation elsewhere, never was there less indolent trust 
in mere routine. The mechanism served, and never ruled , and at the 
remotest point, felt the thrill of some high purpose as its moving 
power." . . . "The earnestness with which he insisted ok the smallest 
things being done well, was an indication of the same kind , manifesting 
his watchfulness against the least slovenliness of conscienoe, his resolu- 
tion to close the most trivial aperture through which looseness and 
disorder could find entrance into life." . . . "Boyhood, which detests, 
as they deserve, all kinds of sham and pretence, easily places itself 
at the disposal of a sincerity so profound as this ; owns as a true guide 
one who lives under an authority of the rules he imposes, and whose 
administration of command is in itself an exercise of ohedience.^^ — It may 
be doubted whether this was consciously owned, save by those whose 
own Intelligence was sufficiently developed to analyse the sources of 
the power thus exerted ; to the Writer (whose privilege it was to 
experience it from his earliest years) it seems to have acted in the 
first instance through the deeper and more direct channels of Un- 
conscious Influence. It must have been as the resultant of a multi- 
tude of separate impressions, many of them not rising to the level of 
conscious apprehension, that " his perceptive eye looked into order a 
thousand things for which there was no audible guidance or com- 
mand." 

* See the Rev. James Martineau's admirable lelineation of the Character jf 
Dr. lAnt Carpenter as a Schoolmaster, in the Memoirs of his Life, py. b42-oo2. 



360 Of Habit. 

(IV.) Last, but not least, among the components of a healthy 
Moral atmosphere, is love towards others ; showing itself in that 
habitual H?zc?7zess, which springs from consideration for their /ee^Jinr/a 
as well as for their rights. The fostering of this principle by her 
own example, is one of the most important functions of the Mothei 
or N urse ; upon whom falls the whole of the earliest direction of 
the Infant's nature, and the formation of those dispositiona 
which colour the whole future life. It is a beautiful fact in 
Human Nature, that the Maternal instinct, which manifests 
itself among the lower animals in the supply of the mere Physical 
wants of the offspring, extends itself to the sphere of Mental and 
Moral development ; so that the first affections of the infant spring 
out of its earliest association between its own simple sense of well- 
being, gradually quickened into happiness, and the personality of 
the Mother ; who in the first instance imparts sustenance and 
comfort to its body, and who, when this duty has been discharged, 
delights to call into exercise its powers of observation, to cherish 
its awakening intelligence, and to minister in every suitable way 
to its pleasures. This association is formed, and shows itself 
in the Infant's actions, long before it can have risen into the 
sphere of distinct consciousness ; but the foundation is thus 
laid for that abiding affection, which, if sustained by judicious 
culture, as infancy passes into childhood, and childhood into 
youth and adolescence, makes the link between Mother and Off- 
spring more enduring than any other. 

It is the experience of those who have endeavoured to awaken any 
dormant sense of good, which may not have been crushed-out from the 
nature of the most hardened Criminals by a life of brutal indulgence 
in every bad passion, that if they retain any recollection of a Mother's 
love, this affords a loop-hole through which what remains of their 
better nature may be reached, though the wall of sullenness and 
obstinacy within which it was shut up may at first seem utterly 
impenetrable. — The Writer well remembers, at a distance of forty 
years, the impression produced on his mind by hearing a case of thii 






Infitcence of Maternal Love. 361 



kind narrated by Dr. Tuckermann, of Boston, N.E. ; a man probably 
unequalled for his success in the line of action above indicated, 
which was entirely prompted and guided by his implicit confidence 
in the principle of Love. 

But whilst the ■unconscious influence of Love is essential to 
t he due formation of the affectional part of Child-nature, it is no 
less important that it should be rightly directed. Nothing is more 
cjommon among Mothers wliose own characters have not been judi- 
ciously trained, either by their own experience or by the discipline 
of others, than that indulgence of their children's desires, which, 
when it grows into a habit, forms both the Physical and the 
Psychical constitution in accordance with it ; so that a " Mechanism 
of Thought and Feeling" comes to be established, which re-acts in 
direct response tc the impressions made upon it from without. 

291. Every observant Educator must have seen instances in which 
the same Child has almost seemed two different individuals, accord- 
ing to the "atm.osphere" in which it happens to be. Where a nature 
originally good and docile has been " spoiled" for a time by injudi- 
cious indulgence and by irregularity in the habits of the family, and 
where the child has early been transplanted into a household in 
which strict rule, judiciously tempered by kindness, has created a 
more healthy atmosphere, it is wonderful how the whole character 
shapes itself insensibly on an improved model, so long as that 
atmosphere is breathed ; while it is no less wonderful how rapidly 
and completely the child falls back into the old ways, when it is 
again subjected to the old influences, before the improved habits 
have become ingrained, and it has come to the stage of conscious re- 
cognition of their superiority. — It is the great advantage of the early 
establishment of a judicious system of Nursery-management, that 
the habits formed under its influence make the Child directly 
connect the well-being of which it is conscious, not merely with the 
love that gives^ but with the love that withholds ; so that by the 
time the Mother can impress its consciousness with the idea that 



362 Of Habit 



the truest kindness may consist in the refusal of a gratification, 
the foundation for the apprehension and recognition of that idea 
has already been unconsciously laid. And when, with advancing 
years, this assurance comes to be strengthened, at the same time 
by Paternal authority, and by the child's own enlarging experience, 
— when a firm trust has grown up in the loving wisdom and 
justice of the Father, and in the judicious love of the Mother, — thia 
constitutes the surest basis for the recognition of the like attributes 
in the dispensations (whether joyous or grievous) of that Infinite 
Being, whom Theodore Parker used thus to address, " God, our 
Father and our Mother too ! '* 

292. While the early Habits are thus in a great degree determined 
f^r each individual by the family influences under which he is 
brought up, he soon comes under those social influences which 
in a great degree shape the future course of his Mental life, — 
constituting that aggregate which was designated by the Greeks as 
the Nd/xos. This term (sometimes translated " custom " and 
sometimes " law ") may be considered as expressing the custom 
wliich has the force of law, and which is often far less easily 
changed than any written law ; becoming so completely in- 
grained in the Constitution of a People or a Class, as to 
constitute a "second nature," which only a long course of the 
*' discipline of circumstances " can alter. The following admirable 
analysis by Mr. Grote of the Greek conception of the No/ioy, is air 
applicable to the present time as to the Classical epoch : — 

** This aggregate of beliefs and predispositions to believe, Ethical, 
Eeligious, -2Esthetical, Social, respecting what is true or false, 
probable or improbable, just or unjust, holy or unholy, honourable 07 
base, respectable or contemptible, pure or impure, beautiful or ugly, 
decent or indecent, obligatory to do or obligatory to avoid, respect- 
ing the status and relations of each individual in the society, respect- 
ing even the admissible fashions of amusement and recreation, — this 
is an established fact and condition of things, the real origin of which 



Formation of Mental Habits. 363 

is for the most part unknown, but wliicli each new member of the 
society is born to and finds subsisting. It is transmitted by tradition 
from parents to children, and is imbibed by the latter almost uncon- 
Bciously from what they see and hear around, without any special 
season of teaching or special persons to teach. It becomes a part of 
each person's nature, — a standing habit of mind, or fixed set of mental 
tendencies, according to which particular experience is interpreted 
and particular persons appreciated. It is not set forth in systematic 
proclamations, nor impugned nor defended: it is enforced by a 
sanction of its own, — the same real sanction or force, in all 
countries, — by fear of displeasure from the Gods, and by certainty 
of evil from neighbours or fellow-citizens. The community hate, 
despise, or deride any individual member who proclaims his 
dissent from their social creed, or even openly calls it in question. 
Their hatred manifests itself in different ways, at difi'erent times and 
occasions ; sometimes by burning or excommunication, sometimes by 
banishment or interdiction of fire and water ; at the very least, 
by exclusion from that amount of forbearance, goodwill, and 
estimation, without which the life of an individual becomes in- 
supportable; for society, though its power to make an individual 
happy is but limited, has complete power, easily exercised, to make 
him miserable. The orthodox public do not recognize in any 
individual citizen a right to scrutinize their creed, and to reject it if 
not approved by his own rational judgment. They expect that he 
will embrace it in the natural course of things, by the mere force of 
authority and contagion, as they have adopted it themselves ; as they 
have adopted also the current language, weights, measures, divisions 
of time, &c. * Nomos (Law and Custom), King of all' (to borrow the 
phrase which Herodotus cites from Pindar), exercises plenary power, 
spiritual as well as temporal, over individual minds ; moulding the 
emotions as well as the intellect, according to the local type, — deter- 
mining the sentiments, the beliefs, and the predisposition in regard to 
new matters tendered for belief, of every one, — fashioning thouglit, 
speech, points of view, no less than action, — and reigning under the 
R]'pearance of habitual, self- suggested tendencies." — {Flato and tka 
iiher Compdinons of Sokrates, vol. i. p. 249.) 

293. It thus becomes extremely difficult — in fact, in most cases, 



364 Of Habit 



impossible — to discriminate clearly between the tendencies to 
Thongljt and Feeling which 2.vq> shaped by the Nojuos, and those 
which ^roif; out of the congenital Constitution — that constitution 
having itself (it seems probable) been moulded under the pressure 
of the like No/ioj on the ancestral Eace. Some information 
may doubtless be drawn from the comparison of the diverse 
mental habits of the several children of the same family, 
brought up, as nearly as may be, under the same influences. But 
we find a better evidence of congenital peculiarity in the distinctive 
characteristics of those who have been very early transplanted 
from one No'/ios into another of an entirely different character. 
True it is that during that earlier period when the general 
characters of Humanity are evolving themselves, when the 
observing powers are most active, and the mental development 
is chiefly sustained by the direct assimilation of the pabulum they 
afford, the child of one Kace readily adapts itself to the habits of 
another; and, as a general rule, the children of the less « civilized 
races show a remarkable quickness of perception, which sometimes 
engenders the belief that their capacity is not below our own. But 
their Intellectual development very commonly stops at a point 
which leaves them " great children " all their lives ; and the 
special characters of the t7/pe then begin to manifest themselves 
unmistakeably. This is particularly noticeable where the ancestral 
habits have been nomadic ; the craving for a return to them being 
often so strong, as to render the restraints of a settled life irksome 
or even insupportable. 

Thus the Writer has been informed of several cases in which beys 
cf^ the native races of Australia, who have been brought up ia 
schools either in the Colonial capitals or in Britain, and who have 
seemed to profit very fairly by the education they have received, and \ 
to form attachments to those among whom they have lived, have; 
seized the very earliest opportunity of going off to the *' bush" and 
of rejoining their countrymen.- — And the same tendency shows itseli 



Influence of Age on Mental Te^idejtctes. 365 

generally in our own *' street Arabs," who can only be trained to 
steady habits bj'- an elastic system of discipline skilfully adapted 
to their nature ; * the restraints of the ordinary school- system, which 
are well suited to the children of the settled members of our labouring* 
population, being quite intolerable to those who have been wandtrtJt 
for generations back. 

Here, then, we have another very striking instance of that Here- 
ditary Transmission of acquired tendencies, which would be 
probably found by careful investigation to be scarcely less clearly 
manifested among the different Races of Men, than among different 
Breeds of Dogs (§§ 93, 301). 

294. Again, the Psychical tendencies of every individual under- 
go a consecutive change during the progress of his life, which is 
quite independent of external influences. Infancy, Childhood, 
Youth, Adolescence, Adult age, the period of Decline, and Senility, 
have all their characteristic phases of Mental as of Corporeal 
development and decline : this being shown, not merely in the 
general advance of the Intellectual powers up to the period of 
middle life, and in their subsequent decay ; but in a gradual 
change in the balance of those springs of action which are 
furnished by the Emotional states, the pleasures and pains of 
each period being (to a certain extent) of a different order from 
those of every other. This diversity may be in great part 
attributed to changes in the Physical constitution. Thus, the 
Sexual feeling which has a most powerful influence on the direc- 
tion of the thoughts in adolescence, adult age, and middle life, 
has comparatively little effect at the earlier and later periods 



* The existence of a distinct Class of this kind, a good deal resembling that ol 
the Bushmen of the Hottentot country and the Pariahs of India, is well known to 
those who have investigated the social condition of our Great Cities. It ia 
continually receiving additions from the degraded members of the class aboi e, 
into which, on the other hand, some of its OAvn are occasionally elevated ; but, \l 
'eft to itself, it maintains its ground with remarkable persistence, and furnishes a 
tuvge proportion of our professional Criminals. 



366 Of Habit 



So, agai>i, the thirst for novelty, and the pleasure in mental 
activity, which so remarkably characterize the yonng, when 
contrasted with the obtuseness to new impressions and the 
pleasure in tranquil occupations, which mark the decline of life, 
geem related to the greater activity of the changes of which 
the Nervous system is the subject during the earlier part of 
life, and to its diminished activity as years advance. There are 
other changes, however, which cannot be so distinctly traced to 
any Physical source, but which yet are sufficiently constant in 
their occurrence to justify their being regarded as a part of 
the developmental history of the Psychical nature ; so that 
each of the " Seven Ages of Man '* has its own character, which 
may be with difficulty defined in words, but which is recog- 
nized by the apprehension, as it forces itself upon the experience, 
of every one. 

295. But whilst recognizing, as a fact of observation, the large 
share which congenital Constitution and external influences have 
in the formation of those tendencies of Thought and Feeling, 
which make up the Character of each individual, we must equally 
rely on the assurance of our own Consciousness, that we have 
within us a Powder, which, if we use it aright, can in great 
measure control the excesses and supplement the deficiencies of 
these tendencies, and can direct them to good and useful instead 
of evil and injurious ends. The strength of this Power, which 
we term Will, mainly depends upon the constancy with which it is 
exercised; the ascendancy of princij^les of action determinately 
adopted by the Reason, over the strong imjmlses of passion or 
desiie, being only possible (as will be shown hereafter, § 333), 
when that ascendancy has been habitually maintained ; and this 
not only in the ordinary course of conduct, but in the government of 
the thoughts. Tliere is, in fact, a continual action and reaction 
between Habit and Will, in our mental, just as there is in our 
bodily life. For as, when we train ourselves to execute a parti- 



Hereditary Transmission of Acquired Tendencies. 367 

cular movement, the Bodily mechanism in the first instance shapes 
itself into accordance with our Will, and then comes to execiito 
the same movement without or even (it may be) against our inteij- 
tion, sc does our Mental mechanism in the first instance growtc 
the mode in which the Will exercises it, and then, having taken 
iu a particular method of activity, tends, by the automatic power 
t has acquired, either to supply a strong motive to the determi- 
Qation of the Will, or to a»ct altogether independently of it (§ 331). 

296. Tt is, moreover, by an action and reaction between Habit 
and Will, similar to that which regulates our conduct, that our 
Beliefs are determined. For although it is often maintained that, 
as Belief is in itself involuntary, we are not responsible for what we 
believe, yet a careful examination of the conditions under which 
Beliefs are generated, will show that in so far as we volitionally 
regulate those conditions, we make ourselves to that extent indi- 
rectly responsible for the Beliefs which automatically spring from 
them (§§ 321-326). And in the same proportion we become 
responsible for our share in the direction of that NtJ/^os-, which 
exerts so powerful an influence on the formation of the Beliefs 
of the rising generation. 

297. But, further, there is strong reason to believe that our 
power of benefiting the future of our Race by the formation of 
right Habits of Thought, is not limited to those results which 
we give to the world, whether by the publication of our opini ns, 
or by our conduct in life ; being even more directly exerted in 
that Hereditary transmission, which the Physiologist cannot 
but regard as no less evidently manifested in tendencies to 
Thought, than it is in tendencies to Action. And it will be 
appropriate, therefore, here briefly to consider this subject; which 
is one, however, that especially needs all the elucidation that 
close, prolonged, and extensive study of facts can alone afford. 

298. Hereditary IVansmission. — The view of the relation of 
Mental Habits to peculiarities of Bodily organization, \\hethfiT 

?8 



368 Of HabiL 



congenital or acquired, which it has been the object of this chapter 
to develope, must be extended to that remarkable hereditary 
transmission of Psj^chical character, which presents itself uii(Jer 
circumstances that entirely forbid our attributing it to any 
agency that can operate subsequently to birth; and which it 
ivould seem impossible to account for on any other hypothesis, 
than that the "formative capacity" of the Germ (§ 274) in great 
degree determines the subsequent development of the Brain, as 
of other parts of the body, and (through this) its mode of activity. 
And this formative capacity, which is the Physiological expres- 
sion of w^hat is commonly spoken of as the " original constitution " 
of each individual, is essentially determined by the conditions, 
dynamical and material, of the Parent-organisms. That "like 
produces like '* is certainly the general rule. For not only do 
Species maintain their fixity, so long as the continuance of the 
same external conditions tends to keep up the mode of Life 
which belongs to each ; but Races, whose origination in varietal 
modifications of the specific type can be distinctly traced his- 
torically, often display a scarcely inferior permanence. It is, 
therefore, by a limitation of this general rule, that Family or 
Individual peculiarities do not tend to reproduce themselves in 
anything like the same degree ; and the explanation of that 
limitation seems to lie in the fact, that while the characters of 
Species or of Races express the most general and constant of those 
influences which tend to produce varietal modifications, those of 
Families or Individuals express influences of far inferior range, 
and of far less duration. In particular, it is to be noted that 
uhile ihe more general characters are shared by both parents, the] 
iTVore special commonly belong to one only. — A great deal of dis 
cussion has taken place, as to 'whether the Male or the Female 
parent exerts the greater influence over • the character of the 
offspring ; and w^hile experience does not yet justify any definite 
poTiclusion on this point, the question seems to have boei?' 



Hereditary Transmission ofAcqidrea Tendencies. 369 

entirely ignored, whether the union of two different natures may 
not produce — as in the combination of an acid and a base — a 
resultant essentially dissimilar to either of them. 

299. This much, however, may be confidently affirmed, thnt 
where general Constitutional taints, that is to say, ahno'rmul 
habitudes of Nutrition, have been acquired, these tend to ])ro- 
pagate themselves hereditarily ; and that they do so with tlie 
most certainty, when both parents partake of them. It may also 
be affirmed that every repetition of such transmission tends to 
increase the mischief ; so that by " breeding in and in," the 
injurious external conditions remaining the same, a very slight 
original departure from healthy nutrition may become intensified 
in successive generations into a most serious abnormality. Of 
this we have an example in the production of Cretinism, which 
may be characterized as Idiocy combined with bodily deformity. 
(This is not essentially connected, as some have supposed, with 
Goitre ; for it presents itself in some localities where goitre does 
not prevail, whilst elsewhere goitre prevails without developing 
itself into cretinism. But in the Vallais of the Alps, the con- 
ditions of the two appear concurrent ; and the result of their 
conjoint action through a succession of generations becomes most 
distressingly apparent.) — There is one class of cases, moreover, 
in which a particular abnormal form of Nutrition that is dis- 
tinctly acquired by the individual, exerts a most injurious influence 
upon the offspring ; — that, namely, which is the result of suc:h 
habitual Alcoholic excess, as modifies the nutrition of the Nervous 
system (§§ 138, 155). 

a. We have a far larger experience of the results of habitual Alcoholi 3 
excess, than we have in regard to any other "Nervine Stimulant;" 
and all such experience is decidedly in favour of the hereditary 
transmission of that acquired perversion of the normal Nuti'iti'-ii 
which it has engendered in the individual. That this manifests its. If 
Bometimes in congenital Idiocy, souietimes in a preditiposition ta 



370 Of Habit 



Insanity, which requires but a very slight exciting cause to develop 
it, and sometimes in a strong craving for Alcoholic drinks, which tho 
unhappy subject of it strives in vain to resist, is the concurrent 
testimony of all who have directed their attention to the inquiry. 
Thus Dr. Howe, in his Report on the Statistics of Idiocy in Massa- 
chusetts, states that the habits of the parents of 300 idiots having 
be^n learned, 145, or nearly one balf, were found to be habitual 
drunkards. In one instance, in whicb both parents were drunkards, 
seven idiotic children were born to them. Dr. Down, whose experi- 
ence of Idiocy is greater than that of any other man in this country, 
has assured the Writer that he does not consider Dr. Howe's state- 
ment as at all exaggerated. Dr. W. A. F. Browne, the first Medical 
Lunacy Commissioner for Scotland, thus wrote when himself in 
charge of a large Asylum: — "The drunkard not only injures and 
enfeebles his own nervous system, but entails mental disease upon 
his family. His daughters are nervous and hysterical ; his sons are 
weak, wayward, eccentric, and sink under the pressure of excitement 
of some unforeseen exigency, or the ordinary calls of duty." Dr. 
Howe remarks that the children of drunkards are deficient in bodily 
and vital energy, and are predisposed by their very organization to 
have cravings for Alcoholic stimulants. If they pursue the course 
of their fathers, which they have more temptation to follow, and less 
power to avoid, than the children of the temperate, they add to their 
hereditary weakness, and increase the tendency to Idiocy or Insanity 
in their constitution ; and this they leave to their children after 
them. The experiences of those who, like Hartley Coleridge, have 
inherited the craving for Alcoholic excitement, together with the 
weakness of Will which makes them powerless to resist it, whilst all 
their better nature prompts the struggle, must satisfy any one who 
carefully weighs them, how closely connected their Psychical state 
is with the Physical constitution which they inherit, and how 
small is their own moral responsibility for errors which are mainly 
attributable to the faults of their progenitors. As Robert Collyer (of 
Chicago) has well said in an admirable sermon on ' ' The thorn in the 
flesh:" — "In the far-reaching influences that go to every life, and 
away backward as certainly as forward, children are sometimes born 
with appetites fatally strong in their nature. As they grow up, the 
appetite grows with them, and speedily becomes a master, the master 



Hereditary Transmission of A cqttired Tendencies, 371 

a tyrant, and by the time he arrives at his manhood the man is a 
slave. I heard a man say that for eight- and- twenty years the soul 
■wiihin him had had to stand, like an unsleeping sentinel, guarding 
his appetite for strong drink. To he a man at last under such a 
disadvantage, not to mention a saint, is as fine a piece of grace %% 
can well be seen. There is no doctrine that demands a larger visioa 
than this of the depravity of human nature. Old Dr. Mason used to 
Bay that as much grace as would make John a saint, would barely 
keep Peter from knocking a man down." 

300. With such evidence of the Hereditary Transmission of 
general diatheses^ or modes of Nutrition, of which we can distinctly 
trace the acquirement in the history of the progenitor, we seem 
fully justified in applying the same doctrine to such particular 
habits as may be regarded, from the Physiologist's point of view 
in the light of expressions of special modifications of Nervous 
organization. 

A very curious example of the transmission of tendencies to special 
Automatic movements, the secondary acquirement of which tendencies 
is altogether beyond doubt, is afibrded by the following curious fact 
established by the researches of M. Brown- Sequard : — In the course 
of his masterly experimental investigations on the functions of the 
Nervous system, he discovered that, after a particular lesion of the 
Spinal cord of Guinea-pigs, a slight pinching of the skin of the face 
would throw the animals into a kind of Epileptic convulsion. That 
this artificial Epilepsy should be constantly producible in Guinea- 
pigs, and not in any other animals experimented on, was in itself 
sufficiently singular; and it was not less surprising that the tendency 
to it persisted, after the lesion of the Spinal cord seemed to have 
been entirely recovered from. But it was far more wonderful that 
when these epileptic Guinea-pigs bred together, their offspring 
fihowed the same predisposition, without having been themselves 
Bubjected to any lesion whatever ; whilst no such tendency showed 
Itself in any of the large number of young, which were bred by the 
•ame accurate observer from parents that had not thus been 
operated on. 



372 Of Habit. 



.301. The same view may be extended to that higher das.i of 
secondarily automatic actions, which can only be performed under 
the guidance of Sensation, and which therefore involve some 
Psycliical change in each case, as one of the links in the sequence. 
For as it is impossible not to recognize the influence of Habit, — 
that is to say of the Voluntary repetition of similar acts under 
BiLoilar circumstances, — in establishing a condition of the Nervous 
apparatus which leads to the Automatic performance of such acts, 
it is conformable to all Physiological probability that a tendency 
to them should be hereditarily transmitted. 

a. * ' On what a curious combination of corporeal structure, mental 
character, and training," says Mr. Darwin, "must handwriting 
depend ! Yet every one must have noted the occasional close 
pimilarity of the handwriting in father and son, although the father 
had not taught his son. A great collector of franks assured me that 
in his collection there were several franks of father and son hardly 
distinguishable except by their dates. Hofacker, in Germany, 
remarks on th© inheritance of handwriting ; and it has been even 
asserted that English boys, when taught to write in Prance, 
naturally cling to their English manner of writing." 

h. The Writer has been assured by Miss Cobbe, that in her family 
a very characteristic type of handwriting is traceable through jive 
generations. 

c. The following case which occurred in the Writer's own family, and 
which (he is assured) can be exactly paralleled elsewhere, indicates 
the '* constitutional" character of handwriting : — A gentleman who 
emigrated to the United States, and settled in the backwoods, before 
the end of last century, was accustomed from time to time to write 
long letters to his sister in England, giving an account of his family 
affairs. Having lost his right arm by an accident, the correspond- 
ence was temporarily kept up by one or other of his children ; but in 
the course of a few months he learned to write with his left hand ;| 
and, before long, the handwriting of the letters thus written came io] 
be indistinguishable from that of his former letters. 

d. Again, there are some "nervous" men who always seem to] 
require to do something with their hands when they are speaking 



Hereditary Transmission of Acquired Tendencies. 2,1 'S 

earnestly; and what particular "trick" eacli individual may learn, 
depends very much upon accident. Thus, in the old times of depen- 
dent watch-chains and massive bunches of seals, these wore the 
readiest playthings ; and now that watches are commonly worn in 
the waistcoat pocket, the hands of such persons may often be seen 
unconsciously stealing upwards to "twiddle" with their watch- 
k^iys. — There is a well-known story of a barrister who acquired the 
"trick" of winding and unwinding a piece of string on his fingers 
^hen addressing the court, and who was thrown into confusion when 
the opposing counsel stole "the thread of his discourse." — Not long 
biuce, when listening to a very interesting extempore sermon, the 
Writer observed that the preacher was continually opening and 
i-lmtting his Bible, and shifting it from side to side of the pulpit ; 
this being probably a mere " trick" of which the preacher was quite 
unconscious, and the Bible merely supplying the place of the bunch 
of seals, the watch-key, or the bit of string, in giving his " idle 
hands" something "to do." — Such "tricks," like particular 
"gestures " indicative of Emotional excitement, are often repeated in 
successive generations, under circumstances that forbid the idea of 
their having been learned by imitation. 

302. The case seems to be even stronger in regard to drawing, and 
to playing on Musical instruments ; for it seem^ quite certain that 
the power of attaining Artistic proficiency in either^ and the readi- 
ness with which it is acquired, depends in great degree upon con- 
genital Temperament. No doubt every child may be taught to 
draw, or to play a musical instrument, after a certain fashion : but 
there are some whom no teaching or self-efi'ort will ever carry 
beyond a certain mechanical exactness ; whilst there are others 
who " take to " drawing or to musical performance as their natural 
language, and who, with very little instruction, learn to express 
tiieniselves in either with singular force and beauty. 

The Writer knows one family in which this Artistic temperament 
is widely diti'used; the several members of it almost always " taking " 
either to Drawing or to Music, and sometimes to both. On the other 
hand, he knows other casus, in which, with a considerable acquired 



3 74 Of Habit. 



interest (rather Intellectual, however, than Artistic) both in Pictorial 
and Musical art, and with considerable manual dexterity (as shown 
in other ways), there is a greatly-regretted inability to acquire any- 
tln'ng more than a stiff formal execution, either in Drawing or in 
Music. To the first, "free-hand" Drawing, to the second, "me- 
f/hsiiiical " Drawing, comes most naturally. 

303. Hence it seems clear that there is a different Hereditary ten- 
dew .cy to the performance of certain classes of Movements ; just as, in 
different Nations, there is a different hereditary tendency to the 
production of certain Yocal sounds. As in the case of Hand- 
writing, it is impossible to say how much of this is due to what we 
are accustomed to call "spontaneous" variation (this being itself 
the expression of organic influences on the Parental constitution), 
Bnd how much to intentional "culture;" but it may be fairly 
affirined as probable that both are concerned in it ; and that the 
manual dexterity with which a Mozart or a Caracci could express 
his conceptions, was as much an inherited gift, as the Genius from 
which those conceptions emanated. 

304. From these the transition is direct to those special 
MfMtal aptitudes, which we can scarcely do otherwise than regard 
as dependent on the conformation of the Physical mechanism 
(§ 5\h), and of whose original acquirement and subsequent trans 
mission we have evidence that can scarcely be gainsaid (§§93, 
201 — 207). And if this be the case with special tendencies to 
Thought, much more is it likely to be true of such as are common 
to Mankind in general. For these, being parts of Mau's ordinary 
nature, are in great degree susceptible of modification by early 
training; and in proportion as the modifications so acquired tend 
to become constitutional in the individual, will the probability of 
their hereditary transmission be increased. And thus we are justi- 
fied in beUeving, that in so far as we improve our own Intellectual 
powers and elevate our own Moral nature by watchful Self- 
Discipline, we are not merely benefiting ourselves and those to 



Hereditary Transmission of MentaL Aptihcaes, 375 

whom our personal influence extends, but are improTing the 
Intelljctual and Moral Constitution which our children and our 
children's children will inherit from us. It is when we regard 
net merely the accumulation of Knowledge, but the development 
I'f the thinking power of the Eace — the "universal Human Reason" 
— as 'progressive^ that we feel the strongest call to exert ourselves 
to foster and direct that development. For every man who 
leaves behind him the expressions of great Thoughts, the 
record of noble Deeds, or the creations of a lofty Imagination, 
not merely helps to educate each successive generation, as it 
comes, in the use and enjoyment of them, but contributes to 
'inlarge its capacity ^or such use and enjoyment, and this in an 
ever-increasing degree. — What motives to the highest exertion 
of our powers can be more inspiring or more disinterested ? And 
yet they spring directly from a Philosophy which is stigmatized 
by many ad " material " and " degrading." 



CHAPTER IX. 

OP THE WILL. 

Section 1. — Influence of the Will on Bodily Movemeni, 

305. " I AM, 1 OUGHT, T CAN, I WILL," are (as has been recently 
well said) the only firm foundation-stones on which we can base 
our attempt to climb into a higher sphere of existence. The 
first implies that we have a faculty of Introspection, which converts 
a simple state of consciousness into sei?/'- consciousness, and thus 
makes it the object of our own contemplation : — the second^ 
that we have submitted that state of consciousness (whether 
Thought or Feeling) to our moral judgment, which has pro- 
nounced its verdict upon it : — ^the tJiird, that we are conscious 
of a freedom and a power to act in accordance with that judg- 
ment, though drawn by cogent motives in some different 
direction ', — and the fourtJi, that we determinately exercise that 
power. Hence we may define Volition or Will as a determinate 
effort to carry out a purpose previously conceived; and this effort may 
be directed to the performance of either the Mental or the Bodily 
acts which are adapted to carry that purpose into execution. — The 
manner in which this Volitional power is exerted in either case, 
and the conditions of its exercise, constitute our present subject of 
enquiry. 

306. In our examination of the different forms of Nervous 
activity presented to us in the ascending series of Animal life 
(Chap. II.), we have found, as we approach Man, blind unreasoning 
Instinct gradually giving place as a spring of action to rational 
intelligence. But neither the performance of Beasoning processes, 
nor the execution of their results, necessarily involves the exercib^e 



Vohmtary and Involuntary Movements. 377 

of Will — at least in the sense in which it is here defined. For we 
have seen that, even in Man, intellectual operations of a high 
order may go on automatically, — one state of consciousness calling 
forth another in strict accordance with the "laws of thought,'* 
without any Volitional interference (§ 216) ; and also that idea- 
iional as well as emotional states may express themselves in 
Muscular action, not only without any exertion of the Will, but 
even in opposition to it (§ 240). And this will hereafter become 
still more obvious, when we investigate the phenomena of those 
abnormal states in which the Will is in more or less complete 
abeyance (Chaps. XIV. XV.). — Now if, under the light afforded by 
this principle, wo carefully study the actions of even those among 
brutes whose nature has been most completely shaped into accord- 
ance with that of Man by habitual association with him, we see 
that they afford no indication of the existence of any other spring, 
than the Idea or Feeling with which the mind of the animal may 
be at the moment possessed ; in this respect corresponding closely 
with those of the young Child, in whom the power of self-control 
has not yet come into exercise, and whose conduct is entirely 
determined by the " preponderance of motives." * 

a. Thus a Dog which is fondly attached to its master, and awaits 
his return home with pleasurable anticipation, at once runs to meet 

* Exception has been taken to this phrase, on the ground that Motives are of 
Bach diflferent orders as not to be commensurable in force ; and that we have no 
other ground for the estimation of their relative strength, than the actual pre- 
ponderance of one aggregate when weighed against the other. But it seems to 
be forgotten that this is our only criterion of the relative weights (i. e. of the 
forces of downward attraction) of any different material substances — e. g. lead 
and feathers ; and that no one disputes its applicability in the case of mora] 
evidence^ in whi'^h the cons derations /o?* or against any particular propOi,ition 
arc at least as diverge in kind as the motives inclining us to ot from any 
paj^icular action. We say that our judgment is determined pro or con. by the 
vay in which the "balance of evidence ' inclines; and when, as sometimes 
happens, the verdict of a jury is given against what an impartial judge considers 
to be the "preponderance of evidence," it is because some motive h.ia swayed 
their decision, which ought not to have been admitted into the scale. 



378 Of the Will, 



him on hearing his voice or his step, and manifests its delight in 
seeing him by expressive movements. But if the dog is conscious of 
having done something at which its master will be displeased, it 
wlinks away and tries to keep out of his sight. 

h. The whole system of "training" a dog or a horse, like the 
early education of a child, consists in bringing such "motives" to 
bear upon it, as are adapted to its " nature." A creature that baa 
no capacity for loving right or hating wrong for its own sake, can 
only be made to comprehend that certain actions will bring reward, 
certain others punishment. And the direction of its conduct is 
clearly determined by the preponderance of such motives. Thus 
if a dog or a child which has a propensity to thieve, be punished in 
the first instance by a slight castigation, the deterrent influence of 
the prospective repetition of that punishment may be outweighed by 
the attractive influence of a tempting honne louche, and the ofience 
may be repeated ; the infliction of a sufficiently severe punishment, 
however, will then serve as a deterrent ; and so long as the memory 
of the punishment remains vivid, this will continue eflPective against a 
temptation of like strength, although it may be overborne by a yet 
stronger attraction. 

c. The well-known lines of Dr. "Watts, commencing "Let dogs 
delight to bark and bite," embody, as it seems to the Writer, the 
true idea of the relation of the self- determining power to the auto- 
matic tendencies. When "bears and lions growl and fight," it is 
because "it is their nature to ; " they cannot make themselves other 
than they are ; and we can only mould them to our wills, by bring- 
ing to bear upon them a motive strong enough to restrain their own 
automatic impulses. But when we urge our children not to "let 
their angry passions rise," it is because we believe that they can 
acquire, if they can be led to try hard enough, the independent self" 
regulating power which we are ourselves conscious of exercising. 

307. Now the Man in full possession of his Volitional power cam 
use it (1) in giving bodily effect to his mental decision, by eitherj 
1 cutting in action the Muscles which will execute the movement \n 
has determined-on, or by restraining them from the action tc 
which they are prompted by some other impulse ; and (2) in] 
ftontrolling and directing that succession of Mental operations, bYj 



{/'olMiitary and Involuntary Movements. 379 

which the determination is arrived at. — In the prosecution of oar 
enquiry as to the mechanism of Mental self-direction, we shall find 
ourselves greatly aided by the indications we may draw from the 
study of the mode in which the Will operates on the BodiJj 
organism. — The distinction between voluntary and involuntary 
\wyiemeni8^ is recognized by every Physiologist ; but it has been 
customary to assign these characters to the muscles by which certain 
of these two classes of movements are respectively performed. Thus 
the Heart, the Muscular coat of the Stomach and lntestir.es, 
the Iris, &c., are said to be " involuntary " muscles, because no 
intentional effort of the conscious Ego can either excite or check 
their contractions, although some of them may be acted on by 
Emotional states. On the other hand, the muscles of our limba 
are termed "voluntary," because we can use them to carry 
out the purposive determinations of the Will. But the muscles 
which are concerned in the act of Respiration, are both " volun- 
tary " and " involuntary ;" for while the ordinary movements of 
breathing are as " automatic " as are those of the Heart, we yet 
have a certain measure of Volitional control over them, by which 
we can regulate their actions in subservience to the purposes of 
Speech. And, further, there is not a single one of the so-called 
"voluntary" muscles, which may not be automatically thrown 
into violent contraction (as in cramp or tetanus), which the Will 
vainly attempts to restrain ; whilst a large part of their ordinary, 
sequential actions are performed " mechanically," without anything 
more than an initiation by the Will, which, though it can cJieck 
them at any time, is not exercised in constantly sustaining theui 
(§§ 10, 17). — Hence we see that the distinction between voluntai^ 
and involuntai'y Muscles is good only to this extent, that there 
are certain muscles which are entirely removed from the control of 
the Will, their contractions being altogether involuntary; while 
the actions of all others may be either voluntary or involun- 
tary, according as they are called into exercise by the Wil], 



38o Of the Will, 



or by an automatic prompting of which we may or may not 
be conscious. And we must, therefore, look higher — that is, tv» 
the sources and the channels of the Nerve-force that excites the 
Muscles to contraction, — for the real distinction between their 
several modes of activity. 

308. It has been shown that the development of Nerve-fores, 
whatever may be the mode in which it manifests itself, depends 
upon a reaction between the Nervous substance (especially its 
vesicular form) and the circulating Blood (§§ 40 — 42). And this 
Blood has a double function ; for, on the one hand, it supplies the 
material at the expense of which the Nerve-substance is formed, 
or rather forms itself, by Nutritive action, and so, as it were, 
lays up a store of potential energy ; whilst, on the other, it supplies 
the Oxygen, by the action of which upon the Nerve-substance (as 
in the oxidation of the zinc-element of the galvanic battery) this 
potential energy is converted into actual energy. Of this conversion 
we have the most conspicuous example in the production of the 
Nerve-force which calls forth Muscular movement, and its trans- 
mission along the motor nerves ; this production and transmission 
being extremely analogous to that generation of an Electric 
current, which takes place in a Galvanic apparatus of battery and 
wires, immediately that the circuit is closed. Now the ordinary 
state of activity of the Nervous system would seem to correspond 
closely with that of a moderately-charged Electric battery, which 
can be c?^scharged by the completion of the circuit ; this discharge 
relieving the tension for the moment, until it is restored by tJie 
chemical reaction between the blood and the ganglionic substance. 
And as there is strong reason to believe that the amount of the 
Nerve-force generated stands in no less direct a relation than the 
strength of the Electric current to the activity of that reaction, 
it is obvious that this, in its turn, will essentially depend on the 
amount of oxygenated blood which is allowed to pass through the 
capillaries of the ganglionic substance. It will be hereafter shown 



Relation of Nerve- force to Blood-supply. 381 

that a reduced supply of Blood, which may be attributed with 
great probability to contraction of the Arteries supplying the 
Brain, called forth by the Yaso-motor system of nerves, is th« 
essential condition of Sleep, as of other states of inactivity of the 
Sensorial centres (§§ 472, 473) in which the ordinary stimuli call 
forth no response. On the other hand, we have a yet stronger 
assurance in the phenomena of morbid excess of activity in the 
Brain or Spinal cord, that an enlargement of the Arterial trunks, 
ind an increase in the quantity of Blood which passes through 
\he Capillaries — constituting the state termed hypercemia — 
becomes the cause of an augmented tension of the Nerve-centres ; 
so that they are much more easily called into action by slight 
stimuli, and discharge themselves with greater force ; whilst the 
tension may increase to such a degree, that a spontaneous Centric 
discharge takes place, analogous to that of an overcharged Leyden 
jar. — Under the guidance of this clue," it seems possible to arrive 
at a tolerably distinct conception of the nature of the Physical 
antecedence of every kind of Nervo-muscular action, from the 
simple Excito-motor up to the Volitional. 

309. Starting, then, with the act of Coughing, as one 
which may be either reflex, centric, or volitional, it is to be re- 
marked that the very same Muscles are employed in executing 
it, and that they are co-ordinated in the very same manner 
(presumably, therefore, by the same mechanism), whether 
the impulse to cough originates in an irritation of the llmng 
membrane of the air-passages, or arises from a hypersemia of the 
Respiratory ganglion, or is produced by an act of Will (§ 17). 
In the former case, the gradual increase of the feeling of irritation 
excited by the impression conveyed to the ganglion by the afferent 
nerve, may be considered to represent a progressively augmenting 
tension of that centre, which, when it arrives at a certain strength, 
•.lischarges itself in motor nerve-force ; just as a Leyden jar that is 
\mug gradually charged by an electrical machine, discharges itselC 



382 Of the Will, 



if fitted with a '* discharging electrometer," so soon as its electric 
tension has risen to the degree to which the electroraeter is ad- 
justed. This discharge of nerve-force will take place in spite of 
tlie strongest Volitional effort to restrain it ; and immediately that 
it has occurred, the feeling of irritation subsides for a time, to 
rutuni again by gradual accumulation, and again to relieve itself 
in the same manner. But sometimes (as in Hooping-cough) it i« 
clear that there is, combined with the local irritation, an undulj 
excitable state of the Respiratory nerve-centres, so that a very 
small stimulus shall call forth a most violent paroxysm of 
coughing ; and this, it can scarcely be doubted, is the expression 
of a hypercemic state of their ganglionic substance. In the later or 
"spasmodic" stage of that malady, after the local irritation has 
subsided altogether, the paroxysmal cough is still kept up by the 
hyperaemic state of the centres, producing spontaneous discharges 
of nerve-force, each relieving its tension for a time. 

310. Ascending to those centres whose action is more intimately 
related to Mental states, we seem able to recognize so intimate a 
connection between the Nervous tension which expresses itself in 
muscular movement, and the state of Mental attention (Chap. III.), 
that the two may be fairly regarded as dependent on the same 
Physical antecedent, — a hypercemia of the particular centre whose 
activity is thus exalted, resulting from the regulative action of 
the Vaso-motor system of nerves on the Muscular walls of t!ie 
Arteries. Thus, when we are intently listening for some sound, we 
not only hear distinctly what might be otherwise inaudible to us, 
but we start when it occurs ; and, if any strong Emotion be 
connected with the sound, not only is our sensorial percejitioi 
quickened, but the involuntary start is more violunt. — This, again, 
points to the same locally-augmented afflux of blood to the centrp'i 
of emotional action, as an essential condition of Emotional excite 
ment ; a view which corresponds well with the known effects of 
Emotion upon the local Circulation, as is shown in tiie act of 



J 



Relation of Nerve-force to Blood-sttpply. 383 

blushing, and, still more remarkably, in the modification vihicb 
Emotional excitement produces in the Secretions (§§ b^Q^^ b'o^^' — 
The same view, Mgain, will apply to Ideational states ; for, as has 
been shown, these states, when excited with sufficient intensity^ 
express themselves in movements which the Will vainly endeavours 
(0 restram (§§ 235, el seq.), — these movements being particularly 
violent and uncontrollable, when the Ideas in which they 
originate are accompanied by strongly excited Feelings (§§ 258, 
259). It may, therefore, be fairly inferred that the intensity of 
any ideational state is the expression of the hypersemic 
condition of some particular part of the Cerebrum, as that of a 
sensational state is of a hypersemic condition of some part of the 
Sensorium. — An Ideational hypercemia, or determination of blood 
to some part of the Cerebral convolutions, may discharge itself 
either (1) in calling-forth a directly respondent Movement, by 
stimulating the motor centres through the descending fibres of the 
medullary substance, or (2) by exciting a like Ideational hyper- 
ajinia in some other part of the Cerebral convolutions, through 
the commissural fibres, or (3) by calling up Sensorial states 
similar to those primarily excited by sense-impressions. Of the 
first of these modes of discharge, we have an example in such 
ideo-motor actions as the yawning that is producible in a pre- 
disposed subject by the mere verbal suggestion of the idea ; the 
second is that which may be presumed to operate in the suggestive 
maintenance of every "train of thought ; " whilst the third is the 
source of those truly " subjective sensations " which are generated 
by ideational states (§§ 141 — 150). — Now as we have it in our 
own power, by the Volitional act of Attention, to intensify any of 
these states, it seems probable that the physiological condition of 
that intensification must be the increase of the local hyjierdemia in 
the nervous centre or part of a nervous centre which is its instru- 
ment, through the agency of the Vaso-motor sj^stem of nerves. 
311. Carrying back our inquiry, now, to the nature of tha 
29 



;84 Of the Will. 



Cerebral chano-e which initiates a Volitional action, we find re^^Ron 
for attributing this also to a local liyperoemia of some part of that 
cortical layer which constitutes the instrument of Ideation. Foi 
ail Volitional action, it will be remembered, is based on an idea 
of what is to be done (§ 305), whether this have reference to Bodily 
movements, or to Mental exertion. And it seems clear that the 
same Vaso- motor action which is the condition of the state of 
attention to that idea, will, if exerted to produce a still greater 
local hypercemia, give effect to it in a spontaneous motorial dis- 
charge. And thus we are led to regard the immediate source of 
ideo-motor and of volitional movements as the same ; and the 
Volitional efiort as really exerted in augmenting the nervous ten- 
sion of the part of the cortical substance of the Cerebrum, which 
is concerned in the formation of the Idea of the thing to be done. 
This doctrine finds a remarkable confirmation in two orders of 
facts ; — (1) that there is practically every gradation between 
those voluntary actions, which (under permission of the Will) 
simply express dominant ideas, and those actions which proceed 
from distinct and cogent volitional determinations ; — and (2) 
that emotional states have a most powerful influence either in 
augmenting or in diminishing the motor force which the Will 
can call forth (§§ 266 — 268). For the known influence of the 
Emotions on the Vaso- motor system of nerves, and the manner 
in which they intensify those Ideational states which express 
themselves in movement, afford a strong indication that they 
exert their effect on Volitional action by increasing the local 
hypersemia of the cortical substance. And this conclusion will 
be shown to derive yet stronger confirmation from the remark- 
able result of Dr. Ferrier's recent experiments. (See Appendix.) 
-—The restraining influence of the Will on bodily movement 
(as when we make an effort to stifle a cough, to resist a yawn, to 
repress laughter, or to keep down the expression of some passionate 
Impulse) seems really to consist in putting the antagonist Musclea 



Mechanism of Volitional Movement, 385 

into action ; and we experience just the same sense of effort in 
doing tliis, that we do in trying to stop a horse that is running 
away, or to check the rotation of a wheel. 

312. Now the strongest Volitional effort may be moperative, 
hrough some defect of the apparatus by which the Nerve-force is 
transmitted to the muscles which are to execute the behests of the 
Will ; as happens in paralysis. But there are states of av^solute 
.ncapacity for such effort ; the mental desire existing, while "^he 
energy needed to carry it into effect is deficient. That this incapa 
city arises from deficient supply of blood to the ideational (Cere- 
bral) nerve-centre, appears probable from the familiar fact, that a 
general deficiency of Volitional power over the muscles is a marked 
feature of the physical depression which betokens feebleness of the 
circulation, being especially noticeable in sea-sickness ; while a 
defect in the distributive action of the Vaso-motor system of 
nerves (such as that of which we have evidence in many local 
congestions) might very well account for such cases as the two 
following, which are recorded by Professor J. H. Bennett {Mesmeric 
Mania of 1851) on the authority of Sir Robert Christison : — 

a. ' ' The first was that of a gentleman who frequently could not 
carry out what he wished to perform. Often, on endeavouring to un- 
dress, he was two hours before he could get off his coat, all his mental 
faculties. Volition excepted, being perfect. On one occasion, having 
ordered a glass of water, it was presented to him on a tray, but lie 
could not take it, though anxious to do so ; and he kept the servant 
standing before him half an hour, when the obstruction was overcome." 

b, "In the other case the peculiarity was limited. If, when 
walking in the street, this individual came to a gap in the line of 
houses, his will suddenly became inoperative, and he could not 
proceed. An unbuilt-on space in the street was sure to stop him. 
Crossing a street also was very difficult ; and on going in or out 
of a door, he was always arrested for some minutes. Both these 
gentlemen graphically described their feelings to be * As if another 
person had taken possession of their will.' " — {The Mesmeric Mania 
of 1851, p. 16.) 



386 Of the Will. 



This state seema akin to that form of hysterical paralysis, in 
wh ich the defect lies not so much in the want of power, as in the 
want of that belief in tJte possession of the power, which is essential to 
its exercise (§ 26'^). A strong motive will here sometimes take the 
place of Volition; and no motive is so efficacious, as that confident 
expectation of cure, which is awakened either by Religious faith, 
or by the belief in the occult powers of Mesmerism, Spiritualism, 
(fee. Thus it has been that numberless pseudo-miracles have been 
worked on patients of this class by Religious Enthusiasts ; whilst 
they furnish to Mesmerists and Spiritualists the subjects of 
" wonderful cures," effected by the agencies which they profess to 
wield. — Such cases are peculiarly interesting to the Psycho- 
logist, from their parallelism to those in which there is a like 
suspension of volitional control over the course of Thought (§ 454). 

Section 2. — Influence of the Will on Mental Action. 

313. Now since, according to the view which it has been the 
special purpose of this Treatise to develope, the relation of the 
Will to mental is essentially the same as that which it has to 
bodily action, the measure of its exertion will be the sense oj 
effort which we experience, in intentionally exciting, directing, or 
restraining any particular form of mental activity. It has been 
already pointed out (Chap. III.) that the Attention may be 
involuntarily fixed upon certain states of consciousness, through 
the attraction they exert upon the individual Mind, in virtue 
either of its original constitution, or of its acquired habitudes ; 
and further that this attraction determines much of the automat io 
action of our faculties (§ 228). When most strongly exerted, it 
causes the consciousness to be so completely engrossed by one train 
of ideas, that the mind is, for the time, incapable of any of tier 
ideational change : external impressions on the Sensorium, either 
Dot being perceived at all (the individual being as insensible to 



Power of the Will over Attention, 387 

them as if he were in a profound sleep), or not giving rise to any 
Cerebral action (§ 124). — But these automatic tendencies of 
the Mind may be to a certain extent antagonized by the Will, 
which keeps them in check (just as it restrains many of the 
»utomatic impulses to bodily movement) by the special power 
whicli it exerts over the Attention. This it can detach from 
subjects which have at the time the greatest attractiveness for it, 
and can forcibly direct it to others from which their attraction 
would otherwise divert it. And in its most complete and powerful 
exercise (which is not within the capacity of every one), it can 
so entirely limit the Mind to one train of thought, that the 
btate of Abstraction induced by the Will may be as complete aa 
that which in some individuals is of spontaneous occurrence (§ 446). 

314. Now when our current of Thought is flo wing-on smoothly 
and uninterruptedly, we are no more conscious of effort than we 
are in the act of breathing ; in fact, an effort may be required 
either to check the cuiTent, or to turn it into another channel. 
But so soon as a difficulty or obstruction arises, — as when the 
Mathematician finds a "hitch" in his computations, the Poet 
wants a phrase to complete his verse, or the Lawyer does not 
see his way through some intricacy in his " case," — the Will ia 
called into play to overcome it, by determinately projecting the 
Mind in search (as it were) of the desiderated idea. So, when 
the Attention is distracted, either by some sense-impression, or 
by the intrusion of some inappropriate idea or feeling, we have 
to " make an effort " to keep it fixed upon our " train of thought ;" 
tlie degree of that conscious effort being the measure of oiu* 
Volitional exertion. And the same is the case when Cerebral 
TiUgue weakens the hold of even an attractive subject; and we 
li.ive to force ourselves to keep our attention fixed upon it, so 
as to complete the task we may have set ourselves to perform. 

315. In proportion as we are able thus to concentrate our 
A-tteution on the subject proper to the time, and to exciude ?*\i 



388 Of the Will. 



distracting considerations whilst pursuing the trains of thought 
which the conttjmplation of it suggests, will be our power of 
advantageously employing our Intellectual Faculties in the 
accpiiremeut of Knowledge and in the pursuit of Truth ; and 
all men who have been distinguished by their Intellectual 
swhievoments, have possessed this faculty in a considerable 
degree. It is one wldch is " eminently capable of cultivation by 
steady intention of mind and habitual exercise;" and the more 
frequently it is put in practice, the easier the exercise becomes. 
In fact, when a man has once brought his Intellectual faculties 
under the mastery of his Will, to such an extent as to induce 
the state of Abstraction whenever he pleases, this state becomes 
secondarily automatic ; and the fixed direction of the thoughts, 
which at first required a constant volitional effort for its main- 
tenance, comes to be continued without any consciousness of 
exertion, so long as the Will may permit. — We have in our own 
consciousness of effort, and in our experience of subsequent fatigue, 
a very strong indication that the power which thus controls and 
directs the current of thought, is of the same hind with that 
which calls forth Volitional contraction in the muscles, though 
exerted in a different mode. And just as the strongest exertion 
of Will is required to produce or sustain muscular contraction, 
either when the sense of muscular fatigue is already strongly 
experienced, or when we are antagonizing a powerful automatic 
impulse, so in the determination of Mental eff'ort in a particular 
direction, we find ourselves necessitated to make the greatest 
Volitional exertion, when we are already laboiu-ing under the sense 
of (Cerebral fatigue, or when the attention is powerfully solicited 
by some other attractive object. And it is after any such cont^jst 
with our natural tendencies, that we experience the greatest degree 
cf bxhaustion ; the merely automatic action of the Mind, which ia 
attended with no 3fibrt, being followed by comparatively little 
fatigue. 



Volitional Direction of Course of Thotight, 389 

The Writer is satisfied from his own experience, that a most 
valuable indication may be hence drawn, in regard to the regulation 
of the habits of Intellectual labour. To individuals of ordinary 
mental activity who have been trained in the habit of methodical 
and connected thinking, a very considerable amount of worh is quite 
natural ; and when such persons are in good bodily health, and the 
subject of their labour is congenial to them, — especially if it be one 
that has been chosen by themselves, as furnishing a centre of 
attraction around which their thoughts spontaneously tend to range 
themselves, — their intellectual operations require but little of the 
controlling or directing power of the will, and may be continued 
for long periods together without fatigue. But from the moment 
when an indisposition is experienced to keep the attention fixed upon 
the subject, and the thoughts wander from it unless coerced by the 
Will, the mental activity loses its spontaneous or automatic charac- 
ter; and (as in the act of walking, § 16) more effort is required 
to maintain it volitionally during a brief period, and more fatigue is 
subsequently experienced from such exertion, than would be involved 
in the continuance of an automatic operation through a period 
many times as long. Hence he has found it practically the greatest 
economy of Mental labour, to work vigorously when he feels disposed 
to do so, and to refrain from exertion, so far as possible, when it is 
felt to he an exertion. — Of course this rule is by no means universally 
applicable ; for there are many individuals who would pass their 
whole time in listless inactivity, if not actually spurred-on by the 
feeling of necessity. But it holds good for those who are sufficiently 
attracted by objects of interest before them, or who have in their 
worldly position a sufficiently strong motive to exertion, to make 
them feel that they must work ; the question with them being, hoitf 
they can attain their desired results with the least expendit ^ro 
of mental effort (§ 228). 

316. In the foregoing instances we are distinctly conscious of tho 
Volitional effort, because there is a struggle between opposing ten- 
dencies. But there are many other cases in which the guidance of 
the Will is exercised so gently, that we are only aware of its exer- 
cise when our attention is drawn to its effects. Thus, as already 
pointed out, whilst the movements of Respiration are essentially 



390 Of the Will, 



automatic (being probably altogether so in most of the lower animals), 
they are in Man so far under the control of his Will, that he can 
utilize them for the purposes of speech ; and yet, unless an un- 
usually severe or long-continued strain is put upon the vocal 
organs, requiring an actual effort for its sustentation, we are not 
aware that during all the time we have been speaking, we have been 
interfering by an act of Will with the automatic uniformity of our 
respiratory movements. — Now this has its precise counterpart in 
Mental action ; for the determining power of Volition is employed, 
in however slight a degree, whenever the succession of thought is 
not 'perfectly spontaneous, — ^whenever, in fact, we purposely guide 
its course in any particular direction, even for the apprehension of 
ideas m.ost familiar to us. Thus, as will be shown hereafter (§ 372), 
all determinate Recollection involves the exercise of volitional control 
over tlie direction of the thoughts ; and hence, if this control be sus- 
pended, and the mind be left to its own automatic activity, the 
power of recalling even the most familiar ideas is completely 
annihilated. So, again, the determinate exercise of the Judgment^ 
which involves the comparison of ideas, can only take place under the 
guidance of the Will ; which selects those which are appropriate, 
and brings them into collocation with each other (§ 227). And it 
is the readiness with which this process is usually performed, 
which constitutes the source of that Gominon Sense, whereon we 
rely in the ordinary conduct of life (Chap. XI.). But we cannot 
use this test, even in the simplest case, without a Volitional selec- 
tion from among the records of our experience, of that which may 
be brought into comparison with the idea whose validity is to be 
tried. The simple credulity of the Child depends upon his having 
no stock of experience upon which to fall back, for the correcti , n 
{){ the erroneous notions which he may himself form, or which may 
be imparted to him by others. But the deficiency of Common 
Sense, which we occasionally meet-with in grown-up Men and 
Women, depends, not so much upon the want of experience, as on tlie 



I 



Volitio7tal Direction of Course of Thought. 391 

want of power to profit by it ; their minds not having been duly 
trained in that vohtional exercise, which, when it once comes to 
be habitual, is performed with so shght an eifort that it is scarcely 
perceptible even to om-selves. Slight as this effort may be, how- 
5srer, it is the one thing needful ; and it may be unhesitatingly laid 
I* own that, if the directing power of the Will he entirely sus^pended^ 
the capability of correcting the most illusory ideas by an appeal to 
Common Sense is for the time annihilated. 

317. Of this we have a typical example, familiar to every one, 
in the state of Dreaming (§ 482) : which is a condition of Auto- 
matic mental activity, usually of an irregular kind ; the combina- 
tions and successions of Ideas being often of the most extraordi- 
nary character, and inconsistent not merely with our most familiar 
experience, but also with each other. Yet, as has been most truly 
remarked, nothing surprises us in dreams. We are never struck 
with the impossibility of the events which we seem to witness ; 
but we accept as genuine, with child-like simplicity, all the 
wonderful combinations which successively rise to our conscious- 
ness. — The same must be the case in any state of mental activity 
in which there is a similar abrogation of Volitional control : and 
the records of "absence of mind*' (§ 445) afford abundant 
examples of the absurd incongruities which occur, when the 
Will is temporarily prevented by the mental preoccupation from 
summoning Common Sense to check the ideas which external 
impressions suggest ; while those of Insanity, in which there is a 
persistent deficiency in the power of self-direction of the thoughts, 
show that no belief is too absurd to be accepted, however inconsis- 
tent with the most direct and most constant experience (§ 559). — 
lleuce w€ see that if the Mind should lose for a time all power of 
V^uiitional self-direction, it cannot recall any fact, even the most 
familiar, that is beyond its immediate grusp ; — its attention being 
engrossed with the idea that may be before it for the moment, no 
incongruity prevents that idea from presenting itself with all the 



392 Of the Will, 



vividness of reality ; — it cannot bring any notion with which it 
may be possessed to the test of " Common Sense," but must accept 
it as a behef, if it be impressed on the consciousness with adequate 
force; — it cannot shake off the yoke of any "dominant idea*' 
however tyrannical, but must execute its behests. 

318. We have, now, however, to consider a much more obscure 
cjiestion, — namely, the nature of that self-determining agency to 
which we give the name of Will. Is it, as some think, the mere 
resultant of the general (spontaneous or automatic) activity of the 
Mind, and dependent, like it, upon Physical antecedents % Or is it a 
Power, which, being completely independent of these conditions, is 
capable of acting against the preponderance of motives "? — as if, 
when one scale of a balance is inclining downwards, a hand placed 
on the beam from which the other scale is suspended, were to 
cause that lighter scale to go down. 

319. Now that the Will is something essentially different from the 
general resultant of the automatic activity of the Mind, appears to 
the Writer to be proved, notmerely by the evidence of our own con- 
sciousness of the possession of a 5e//-determining power (Chap. I.), 
but by observation of the striking contrasts which are continually 
presented in abnormal states of Mind, between the automatic 
activity and the power of volitional control. For, in the first 
place, it is the special attribute of all " nervine stimulants," such 
as Alcohol, Opium, and Hachisch, as well as of those morbid 
noisons which induce Delirium, to exalt the automatic activity of 
the Mind, while diminisfiing the power of volitional control ; 
and this not only relatively but absolutely. A most instructive 
e lample of this general fact is furnished by the description given 
by Dr. Moreau of his own experience in regard to the Hachisob 
(§ 537) ; and the "Confessions of an English Opium-eater" exhibit 
the same characteristic phenomena (§ 542). Moreover, the con- 
tinual use of these stimulants has a manifest tendency to produce 
ft permanent weakening of the Volitional power (§ 543), which ofteo 



Volitional Direction of Course of Thought, 393 

shows itself hereditarily even where the offspring have not them- 
selves given way to the habit (§ 299 a). We have seen that the 
whole mental hfe of Coleridge was one of singular automatic activity 
(§231), whilst there was a no less marked deficiency in the power of 
volitional self-direction; and there can be little doubt that this 
deficiency, probably constitutional in the first instance, was 
aggravated by the habitual use of the nervine stimulants which 
augmented the automatic activity of his Psychical natui*e. — But, 
further, the complete suspension of the power of volitionally direct- 
ing the ciu-rent of thought and feeling, will be shown to be the 
essential featm-e, not merely of the states of Dreaming and Delirium, 
but also of natural and induced Reverie, and of natural and in- 
duced Somnambulism ; while the weakening of that power, usually 
in concurrence with an exaltation of some Emotional tendency, is 
the special characteristic of Insanity. 

The variety of phases which these different states present, is chiefly 
dependent upon the following conditions: — (1) The relative degree 
iu which the Mind is in a state of receptivity for external impres- 
sions, or is attending only to what passes witliin itself; (2) the degree 
in which the coherence of the successive states is maintained by 
preformed Associations ; and (3) the degree in which the normal 
operation of the Intellectual faculties is disturbed by Emotional 
excitement, either general, or Kmited to one class of feelings. — The 
influence of the first of these elements is remarkably seen in the con- 
trast between natural and artificial R^y^viq (§§ 443, 448), also between 
some forms oi natural axidi artificial Somnambulism (§§488, 492): and 
not less between different forms of Insanity, in which last condition 
W(^ find some patients constantly brooding over particular trains of 
thought, and almost incapable of being turned from the contempla- 
tion of these by external suggestions ; whilst others are no lees 
remarkable for the instability of their mental states, and for the 
readiness with which a new direction may be given to the thought s 
by sensory impressions. — The influence of the second element is 
strikingly manifested in the difference between the various phases oi 
the state of Dreaming, and in the contrast between the incohereuot 



394 Of the Will 



of the commoner forms^of this (§ 482), and that consistency in tba 
trains of thought which generally characterizes the state of Som- 
nambulism ; this last again being strongly contrasted with the states 
uf Delirium and Mania (§ 54S, 553), which are especially charac- 
terized by the complete confusion of the Intellectual powers, all 
previous states of consciousness being (as it were) jumbled together, 
and the order of their recurrence and the nature of the new combina- 
tions which, may arise out of them, being irreducible to any principle 
of orderly sequence. — The influence of the third element is well seen 
in those forms of artificial Eeverio and Somnambulism, in which the 
feelings as well as the ideas admit of being played upon by external 
influences ; for it is easy to bring the mind of the " subject" under 
the domination of any particular Emotion, by taking the appropriate 
means to excite it ; and, so long as this may continue, the language 
and actions most obviously display its impress. Thus it is often 
sufficient to ask the Biologized subject (§ 451), "Why are you so 
angry?" " Why are you so sad ? " &c., — to induce these conditions 
respectively, the suggestions being here conveyed verbally : whilst 
in the Hypnotic state there is often a very curious Emotional 
susceptibility to the influence of Muscular associations (§ 494). But 
it is in Insanity (Chap. XYIII.) that we best see the influence of 
Emotional states upon the course of thought and action. For 
here we find them supplying impulses to bodily movements, which 
the weakened Will cannot resist, although the Intellect distinctly 
apprehends the evil consequences of such actions ; or, on the other 
hand, we find them directing the whole course of mental activity, 
giving a wrong colour to all the ideas which call them into exercise, 
and so attracting the attention to the trains of thought founded 
upon these, that they come to attain a complete domination over 
the mind, and hence over the conduct, to which they supply motives 
of such potency that the weakened Will can neither resist them, nor 
«vithdraw the mind from attending to them. 

320. It will aid us in the examination of the mode in which the 
Will determines our actions, if we first examine the influence it 
has on the formation of our opinions,— 2i. subject on which, in the 
IVriter's judgment, a grave misapprehension is prevalent. For it 
is very frequently asserted that it does not rest with any Man to 



I 7ifiue7tce of the Will on Beliefs. 395 

determine what he shall helieve or what he shall disbelieve ; that 
he cannot help giving or refusing his assent, according to the jwe- 
ponderance of evidence; and that he is, therefore, "no m:>rG 
responsible for his opinions, than he is for the colour of his skia.'^ 
Now whilst fully recognizing it as a fundamental fact of conscious- 
ness, that Assent is an automatic action, over which the Wil] can 
eiert no direct influence, the Writer has now to show that the Will 
has an immense indirect power of a twofold nature ; — (1) through 
the habitual discipline by which it gives shape to the Intellectual 
fabric ; and (2) through its power of modifying the relative force 
cf different evidentiary considerations, by the degree of Attention 
yyen to each. 

Section 3. — Influence of tlie Will on the Formation of Beliefs. 

321. It may be freely admitted that there are certain Proposi- 
tions which claim our immediate and entire assent ; but between 
these and the Beliefs to which we give our assent as on the whole 
preferable^ after mentally balancing a variety of considerations 
bearing upon them, there is every gradation. The cogency of the 
propositions of the first kind depends upon the fact that they 
are consistent w^ith our previous convictions, and that nothing 
can be said against them ; whilst the uncertainty we feel as to the 
second, results from the fact that t'lere is " much to be said on both 
sides." And further, whilst those of the first kind are equally ac- 
cordant with the Mental Constitution (whether on^zna^ or ac^mVe^^) 
of eveiy one (§ 377), those of the secondare very differently estimated 
by different individuals, all equally desirous of arriving at the truth, 
According to their conformity or disaccordance with ihdX aggregate of 
preformed opinion which has grown up in the Mind of each. For 
just as — if so rude a comparison be permitted — we try whether a 
new piece of furniture which is offered us does or does not fit into 
a certain recess in our apartment, and accept or decline it accord- 



96 Of the Will 



ingly, so we try a new Proposition which is offered to our Mental 
acceptance. If it either at ohqq fits-in, or can by argument or dis- 
cussion he brought to fit-in, to some recess in our ftibric of 
Thought, we give our assent to it, by admitting it to its appri- 
piiate place. But if it neither fits in the first instance, nor can by 
auy means be brought to fit, the Mind automatically rejects it. 

a. Of this we have a marked illustration in the opposite receptions 
given to the asserted wonders of Spiritualism. To those, for example, 
who have been trained in Scientific habits of thought, the statement 
of a dozen persons that a lady was transported two miles through the 
air, in a state of trance, and came down upon the table of a darkened 
room, the doors and windows of which were securely closed, — or that 
Mr. Home, in a like condition, floated out of the open window of one 
room, and into that of another, at a height of seventy feet above the 
ground, — seems a simple absurdity, to which no ordinary testimony 
would induce their assent. And, further, to any one who has so far 
studied the constitution of the Human Mind, as to be aware of the 
influence of "dominant ideas" in producing false perceptions 
(§ 186), it becomes obvious that no amount of testimony given by 
witnesses who are "possessed" by such ideas has the least evi- 
dentiary value. — On the other hand, to those whose previous training 
utterly incapacitates them for the appreciation of Scientific truth, 
who scornfully repudiate the objections urged by men of science as 
those of prejudiced or interested opponentja^ who have a craving for 
"spiritual manifestations" as proofs of the continued existence of 
their departed friends, who are utterly ignorant of the nature of the 
"subjective" as distinguished from the "objective," who implicitly 
bulieve what they term the "evidence of their senses," and who are 
consequently quite prepared to mistake the creations of their owo 
imaginations for external realities, such statements appear not only 
inedible but probable ; in fact, the more inconsistent the assert^ed 
phenomena are with every- day experience, the more readily do they 
give their entire assent to them, as fitting-in with their previoua 
conceptions of the supernatural powers of " the Spirits." 

Agi.in, since the preformed Mental habits thus determine not merely 
the primary acceptance or rejection of the Proposition, but tha 



In/licence of the Will on Beliefs, 397 

issue of the further attempts to make it jit, not only will difFere;!it 
individuals draw very different conclusions from the same data, but 
the same Ego will form different judgments as to the very same 
matter at different stages of his Mental life ; without any change in 
I he external materials of his judgment, but solely from changes in 
his own fabric of Thought, — one recess (to revert to our former 
simile) having grown large enough to admit what it formerly refused, 
and another having contracted so as no longer to give place to what 
it originally admitted. 

h. Every one who has gone through a sufficiently long course of 
Intellectual experiences, and has been accustomed to reflect upon 
them, must be conscious that this has often occurred to himself. The 
Writer, in common (he doubts not) with many Men of Science, has 
often been surprised, on turning over the records of his earlier beliefs, 
to find how many of them he would now absolutely reject; not 
because they have been disproved by additional evidence, but because 
he has himself grown out of them ; either from no longer attaching 
the same value to evidence on which he formerly relied, or from 
looking at the whole subject from an enUrely different stand-point. 
These purely Intellectual diversities of judgment are closely related to 
those modifications in our Memory of actual occurrences, which are 
unconsciously produced by our habits of thought in relation to the 
subject of them (§ 365). How much our conclusions on any matter 
into which Emotional considerations enter, are swayed by the state of 
feeling in which we may be at the time, is a matter of familiar 
experience ; a night's rest often completely reversing our judgment, 
by altering our estimation of the data on which that judgment was 
based. 

322. Thus, then, while no one, constituted as he is at the time, may 
be able to help giving his assent to certain propositions, and refusing 
Ilia assent to others, every one who has learned to direct his own 
ii tellectual activity is responsible for the use he has made of hia 
power, in the construction of that Mental fabric, the aptitude or 
inaptitude of which for the reception of a new proposition deter- 
mines his acceptance or rejection of it — There are numerous pro- 



398 Of the Will. 



positions which are scarcely less '* self-evident " to the minds oi 
Buch as have given special attention to the subjects to wliich they 
relate, than are the Axioms of Geometry to the Common-Sense of 
Mankind generally (§ 200) ; the admission of them into the 
Mental fabric of such persons being immediate, and their jit in< o 
appropriate places being exact, in virtue of its special preparedness 
for their reception. And thus the unhesitating assent wiiich one 
man gives to a proposition or set of propositions, the nescience of 
another who avowedly forms no opinion about them (pronouncing 
the matter *' unknowable "), and the positive denial of them by a 
third who denounces them as altogether monstrous and absurd, 
are all the expressions of antecedent states of mind, which partly 
arise out of the original constitution of each individual, but partly 
depend on the self-discipline he has habitually exercised in his 
search for Truth. 

Every one, for example, who has been trained in Scientific 
habits of thought, recognises the cogency of the evidence afibrded 
by Spectroscopic observation, in regard to the Chemistry and Physics 
of the Celestial luminaries. For if he has not himself observed the 
phenomena, he accepts the testimony of those who have ; the concur- 
rence of independent observers, and the accordance of their state- 
ments with the antecedent probabilities established by other investi- 
gations, giving the fullest validity to that testimony. And the deduc- 
tions from those phenomena are so simple and direct, requiring 
neither the elaborate computations of Astronomy, nor the combinations 
of probabilities which Geological reasonings involve, that no special 
education is required for the recognition of their claim on his assent. 
Hence it may be fairly said that any man who refuses to accept them , 
is responsible for the state of mind which dictates that refusal ; unless 
his mind is so deficient (either by original constitution, or through 
want of appropriate training) in the power of apprehending scientific 
Truth, that he cannot yield his assent to that which becomes perfectly 



obvious to every man of ordinary intelligence who bestows sufficient 
attention on the matter. 

323. But a large part of the Propositions offered to our accept- 



InfiiLence of the Will on Beliefs. 399 

*Qce, relate to matters as to which the evidence is far less cogent and 
conclusive ; and the question is not so much whether they do or 
do not^^ at once, as whether they can be brought to Jit by argu- 
ment and discussion. Now here, again, a sincere desire to arrive 
Rt Truth, without the least wish to come to any particular con- 
elision, being presupposed, the balance of judgment will be en- 
tirely determined by the individual's previous habits of thought : 
as on these will depend the relative weight he attaches to the 
several arguments pro and con. (This is so well understood at the 
Bar, that a skilful advocate, in pleading before a Judge, will shape 
his argument according to his knowledge of that judge's "turn of 
mind.") And there are very few persons who are so entirely 
devoid of Intellectual prejudices, or inclinations to particular 
modes of thought, as to be altogether free from their influence ; 
that influence being especially dangerous, when we are altogether 
unconscious of its existence (§ 389). Those in whom it is chiefly 
" conspicuous by its absence" are said to be distinguished by their 
"judicial habit of mind." 

324. As soon, however, as aiii/ other motive than the desire to 
arrive at Truth enters into the formation of our beliefs, the Will 
comes to have a far more powerful influence. That " we easily 
believe what we wish" is a proverb which Experience shows to be 
BO often true, that Science is called on to give the rationale of a 
fact which seems opposed to what has been said of the automatic 
nature of our Intellectual decisions. The opposition, however, is 
more apparent than real. In the discussion of a question of 
Intellectual Truth, as in debating with one's self a question of 
Morals (§ 210), the Will has the power of keeping some considera- 
tions out of view, and thereby diminishing their force, whilst it 
fixes the attention upon others, and thereby increases their force. 
And in this manner the Will can indirectly determine the inclina- 
tion of the balance of evidence which commands heliefy as it can the 
oalance of motives which determines conduct. 
30 



ioo Of the Will. 



Its action may be compared to that (now happilj'-, in our ova 
country, a matter of history) of a partisan Jud;4e presiding over tt 
Political trial, in which the Prisoner's life or death depends on the 
verdict of an impartial Jury. For a Judge who is determined to 
procure an adverse verdict, has various means of influencing the 
decision. In the first place he refuses even to consider theobjectiond 
^hich the prisoner's counsel may be justified in urging against tha 
indictment ; and accepts the reply of the crown lawyer as all-sufficient, 
when it does not really meet one of the points raised for the defence. 
Again, he treats the witnesses for the crown with the utmost con 
sideration, assumes the truth of every statement they make, and not 
only asks no inconvenient questions himself, but places every obstacle 
he can in the way of the cross-examination which tends to expose the 
inconsistencies of their testimony, or to convict them of interested mo- 
tives. On the other hand, he treats the witnesses for the defence as if 
they were utterly unworthy of credit ; and allows the utmost licenoo 
to the crown-counsel who endeavours to lower the value of their 
testimony by unjustifiable insinuations or bullying assumptions. And 
in his " summing-up," he so forcibly presents to the jury both the 
law and the evidence on one side, and so determinately keeps down 
the force of law and evidence on the other, that the Jury, however 
honest their intentions, may be forced into giving a most iniquitous 
verdict, for the injustice of which it is the Judge who is really 
responsible. 

325. This influence of the Will is all the more powerful, when 
we do not discuss the question with others, but only with ourselves. 
For we can far more easily withdraw our attention from the 
suggestions which occur to oar own minds, than we can from the 
very same considerations forcibly urged as arguments by others. 
And, further, if we only look at the matter from our own point of 
Bight, we are almost sure to take but a limited view of it. Every 
me, therefore, who really desires to arrive at Truth upon a subject 
^'hich is open to question, will seek to acquaint himself with the 
view that may be taken of it by otiiers; — as when a Judge says " I 
should like to hear that point argued," knowing that the Counsel 
3n the two sides will brino- forwards all that is to be said on each 



Influence of the Will on Beliefs. 401 

Cpon his candid readiness to listen to all that they can fairly urge, 
&nd his trained ability to estimate their arguments at their just 
weight, will depend the worth of his final decision. This pro- 
cedure is especially important with Minds which have been 
habituated to the worship of Idoh of any kind whatever \ for to 
these they are perpetually, without being aware of it, " sacrificing 
their intellectual and moral independence." 

a. Thus Dr. Channing was led by the representations of Samuel J. 
May, to perceive that he had been thus sacrificing to the idol of 
" unanimity" in holding his peace upon the Slavery question. The 
conduct of those two great and good men, as recorded in the Memoir 
of the former (vol. iii., pp. 156-159), is a noble moral as well as 
intellectual lesson, which should teach charity, as well as fidelity to 
principle. *' At first," said Mrs, L. M. Child, who seems to have 
made the earliest attempt to draw Dr. Channing' s attention to the 
subject, " I thought him timid, and even slightly time-serving; but 
I soon found that I formed that estimate from ignorance of his cha- 
racter. I learned that it was justice to all, not popularity for himself, 
which made him so cautious. He constantly grew upon my respect, 
until I came to regard him as the wisest, as well as the gentlest, 
apostle of humanity." — When subsequently appealed-to by Mr. May, 
he did not raise any objections to the fundamental doctrines of the 
Abolitionists; but excused himself from participating in their 
agitation, on account of the severity of their denunciations, and 
the vehemence, heat, and excitement caused by their meetings. This 
called forth an indignant protest from the Abolitionist advocate ; who 
urged that any imprudences of this kind were due to the silence of 
such men as Dr. Channing, who, acknowledging the awful injustice 
of Slavery, had not raised their voices in remonstrance against i b. 

It is not our fault," he said, ** that those who might have pleaded 
for the enslaved so much more wisely and eloquently, both with the 
pen and the living voice, than we can, have been silent. Why, Sir, 
have you not spoken?'' — This appeal went "home." — "Brother 
May," replied Channing, after some minutes' consideration, *'I 
acknowledge the justice of your reproof: I have been silent too long." 
And heforthwith prepared himself to " speak out." — No one who knew 
Dr. Channing could suspect for a moment that he would have lef-jj^ed 



402 Of the Will. 



to this argument, if it had suggested itself to his own mind, the sam?» 
weight that it had with him. when brought forwards by anotlier. 
His unconscious bias in the opposite direction had prevented it from 
©78r occurring to him. 

h. The case of the Eev. Blanco "White affords another illustratitm <\ 
the same principle. Born in Spain, and brought up as a Eoman 
Catholic Priest, but rebelling against the principle of Authority, he 
found refuge in the Church, of England, specially attaching himself 
to the Liberals of Oxford, by whom he was highly esteemed ; so that 
when Dr. Whately was appointed to the Archbishopric of Dublin, 
he named Blanco White his domestic chaplain. Whilst holding this 
position, he published a controversial work entitled '* Second Travels 
of an Irish Gentleman in search of a Eeligion," which fell under the 
notice of the Eev. George Armstrong, who had already, on conscien- 
tious grounds, resigned his preferment in the Irish Church ; and a 
correspondence took place between them. Mr. Armstrong urged upon 
Blanco White, that, upon the principles he had avowedly adopted, it 
was not possible for him, as a matter of logical consistency, to con- 
tinue in the position he was then holding ; and being brought to 
admit this, he at once relinquished it, though by so doing, he 
severed ties of the closest nature, personal as well as professional. — 
The whole life of Blanco White showed such a thorough fidelity to 
principle, such a readiness to make any and every sacrifice which hia 
conscience demanded, that it cannot for a moment be imputed to him 
that he had intentionally kept out of his view the logical result of hia 
own train of reasoning. He simply did not see it, until it was pointed 
out to him. 

On the other hand, it not unfrequently happens in a controversy 
Outween honest opponents, that the effect of an adverse argument 
is in the first instance to stir up an antagonistic spirit, which pre- 
vents its weight from being duly appreciated ; and that it is only 
when the argument is calmly and quietly reviewed at a subsequent 
time, that its real cogency makes itself felt. With most perso)i8l 
indeed, the first effect of an assertion which runs counter to their 
settled beliefs, is to make them think what can be said against it ; 
BO that the most candid and truth-seeking of men generally require 



Infiue7ice of the Will on Beliefs, 403 

time for the digestion and assimilation (so to speak) of any such 
pr( )position. 

326. But another Proverb, or concrete expression of a vast bod^ 
of familiar experience, — tells us that " there are none so blind aa 
those that worCt see ; " and it is in wilfully turning away *he eyes 
of their minds from inconvenient truths, whether facts of Nature 
or results of Thought, that the moral responsibility of such persons 
for their opinions really consists. As the opponents of the Copemi- 
can system refused to look at the satellites of Jupiter through the 
telescope of Galileo, so there are too many who refuse to admit 
even a gleam of reason into the dark chambers of their Intellects; 
where they hide as sacred treasures the antiquated beliefs of past 
ages, the worthlessness of which would be at once apparent if the full 
light of day were permitted to shine in upon them. — On the other 
hand, as Nelson at Copenhagen turned his blind eye to the signal for 
his recall, which he did not think it for the honour of his country to 
obey, so may we rightly keep from our Mental vision, not merely 
the direct promptings of self-interest, but such arguments as we 
instinctively feel to be sophistical, though we may not be able 
logically to expose their fallacy ; and it is in cultivating and 
quickening this instinct, that the habitual desire to act on the 
highest principle of right most powerfully operates on the Intellect 
(§ 389). 

327. There is no subject as to which the influence of the No'/xoy 
(§ 292) shows itself more strongly, than it does in regard to 
Religion and Morals ; none as to which it is more difficult for a 
man to free himself from the influence of those Habits of thought 
Riid feeling, which, impressed upon him at the earliest dawn of his 
lutelligence, have " grown with his growth, and strengthened with 
his strength." But as there are many signs which it is impossible 
to disregard, of the awakening of a general sjnrit of inquiry into 
the foundation of our Beliefs on these subjects, it may not be 
inappropriate here to consider the three principal tendencies to 



404 Of the Will. 



thought which are most potent in the direction of that enquiry^ 
a,nd the three modes in which we make ourselves responsible 
for its results, by the deliberate adoption of one or other of 
them. 

T. The first of these is implicit reliance on Authority^ which is the 
fundamental tenet of the Roman Catholic Church. This tendeucyj 
^\\Q\\ originally implanted in the mind, and fostered by a system 
of training most skilfully devised to fix and develope it, acquires a 
most powerful hold over Intellects which are free and independent 
upon all other matters. Taught from his earliest years that Faitli 
and Morals are beyond Human ken, impressed with the claims of 
the successors to the Apostles as the conservators of Divine Truth, 
warned that to doubt is sinful, alarmed b}^ the dangers which he 
sees to be inseparable from unrestrained freedom, and feeling com- 
fort in being relieved from all responsibility as to the formation of 
his opinions, the sincere Catholic submits himself unreservedly to 
the dictation of his Church, and gives his unhesitating assent to 
every dogma she imposes upon him. And it is only when, in 
endeavouring to strengthen her grasp upon the Intellect of her 
members, she asserts a control over matters on which they cannot 
help thinking for themselves, that she incurs any danger of a 
general revolt against her authority. — That there is a certain type 
of mind, to the Constitution of which (whether original or acquired) 
the sj^stem of implicit reliance on external support is most con- 
genial, is shown by the thorough acceptance of it by men of rare 
acquirements and great ability, who have been brought up iu 
Protestant Churches, and have made great sacrifices in quitting 
them. Upon such, however, lies a much heavier responsibility for 
the adoption of this system, than upon the former for their simple 
acceppjince of it. For they determinately surrender, in regard to 
tiie most momentous of all subjects, that freedom to form their 
own opinions, which they would regard it as not only their righty 
but their duty, to exercise in all other matters ; and submit 



1 



Responsibility for our Beliefs. 405 

to such limitations upon that freedom, in every Philosophical or 
Scientific investigation which can have even the remotest bearing 
upon Eehgion, as the Church may at any time see fit to impose. 
While holding themselves free from all responsibility?, therefore, 
they do in effect nfiake themselves responsible for whatever they may 
11 ink, say, or do, at the bidding of the Authority to which they have 
deliberately chosen to submit themselves. 

11. The truly independent thinker, on the other hand, who 
upholds the duty of individual judgment on all subjects, is respon- 
sible, not directly for the conclusions he arrives at, but for the 
right use of his reason in the search for Truth. It is not the least 
among the evil results of the tyranny of the No/^oy, that it tends to 
drive into antagonism every one who feels called on to resist it ; 
and thus to engender a defiant attitude where firmness alone is 
needed, an iconoclastic and controversial disposition where the judi- 
cial habit of Mind is specially required. Those who put themselves 
forwards to attack the cherished beliefs of the world at large, are 
bound to master the whole of each question they bring under discus- 
sion, and not to content themselves with a one-sided or imperfect 
view of it; and they have no more right to put aside an evidentiary 
fact or deduction merely because it looks old and worn out, than to 
adopt another without due examination because it is new and 
specious. In particular it behoves those who rest on experience as 
the basis of all knowledge, to beware of excluding all experience save 
their own. As a man who has no " musical ear" may deny the soul- 
stirring power of a Handel or a Beethoven, or as one who is "colour- 
blind" cannot recognize either the glorious hues of Nature herself, 01 
the reflection of them in the picture of a consummate artist, so the 
man whose Mental constitution leads him to fix his attention too 
exclusively on experiences of one kind, is too prone to deny the 
reality of those in which he does not himself share, and to regard 
as " iinknowable" what other Minds assert to be within their 
appreiiension (§ 528). So, again, there is a tendency on the part of 



4o6 Of the Will. 



independent thinkers to an excessive confidence in their own 
conclusions, which a due sense of Human frailty would restrain ; 
and to a corresponding intolerance of the different conclusions of 
others, who, while honestly exercising the like independence A 
thought, may have acquired, by the greater comprehensiveness :A 
their survey of the subject, a better title to the acceptance of their 
judgment upon it. The very fact that a man has emancipated 
himself from the tyranny of the No/xos, is evidence that he has a 
power of Will which enables himself to exercise 5eZ/*-discipline ; 
and it is all the more incumbent on him, therefore, to take 
heed that he does not, in abjuring the worship of one Idol, set up 
another — his own Individuality — in the place of it. A due 
respect for the " common consciousness of Mankind," though he 
may not himself share it, will engender a wholesome distrust of 
any belief that directly opposes it ; and this will lead him, before 
finally adopting that belief, to subject its basis to the most careful 
scrutiny. And while rejoicing in his own freedom, and doing what 
in him lies to stir up in others a desire for the same " glorious 
liberty," it especially behoves him not to think too hardly of 
those whose Mental constitution and habits of thought are diffe- 
rent from his own, for their assent to propositions which to him 
appear not only untrue, but irrational, perhaps even immoral 

(§ 4«)- 

III. Between these two tendencies, there is a third which is far 
more widely prevalent than either, — that, namely, of passive 
acquiescence in the forms of thought in which the Ego has bern 
brought-up. For one man who determinately sets himself to seek a 
definite basis for the opinions he professes, — who, after making tlie 
best use of his faculties and opportunities, finds that basis either in 
external Authority or in the authority of his own Reason, — and 
who, having found what his Intelle'^t approves as Truth, acts upon 
his convictions to his personal detriment (or, what is far more 
trying, to the injury of those most dear to him), — there are multi* 



Resp07isibility for our Beliefs, 407 

tudes who do not feel called upon to enquire for themselves, but 
consider themselves justified not only in accepting a body of 
d<3Ctrine which they regard as on the whole beneficial, but in 
recommending it to the acceptance of others. Such persons cannot bo 
truly said to believe a set of propositions, the evidence of which they 
have never studied, and the very language of which (framed as the 
espressicn of ideas that have long since passed away) they do not 
understand. But c^isbelief in them is equally out of their thoughts. 
Their Mental fabric has been built up under the direction of a No'/aos 
which has shaped it into accordance with the furniture it is to receive. 
And unless something occurs to nnake them question the validity 
of their position, they continue to hold it without any suspicion of 
its possible untenability. — Now such persons are responsible for 
their acquieso3nce, in so far as this has been induced either by 
passive indolence, or by a timorous apprehension of the possible 
results of inquiry, whether in unsettling and disturbing their own 
minds, or in injuriously affecting their worldly interests. The 
results of such enquiry, honestly pursued, may be so far satisfactory 
to their reason, as fully to justify them in resting where they 
are. Some, again, may be led to the conclusion that the adoption, 
to however small an extent, of the principle of Authority, leaves 
them no other logical basis than the Authority of the Church. 
While others, in whom the spirit of independence is more pro- 
nounced, find themselves driven by it in the opposite direction \ 
and are led by the application of the very same logical tests, to 
pure Individualism, — that is, to the implicit adoption of those 
opinions, and those only, which express the experiences of the 
individual's own mind. 

ii28. it is of great importance, in our search for Truth, that we 
should set out with clear ideas respecting the object of tliat search 
and our means of attaining it. From the Psychologic.il point of 
view, what is accepted as truth by each individual is " that which 
he troweth ; " in other words, that which is consistent with the 



4o8 Of the Will. 



constitution of his own Mind, and with his previously-acquired 
convictions (§ 321). But the Truths which claim our acceptance may 
be ranged under two distinct orders : — the first of which includes 
all such propositions as are purely subjective, the evidence of their 
truth being internal, and consisting in their conformity to ideas 
which are essentially the creations of our own minds ; — whilst the 
second includes all such propositions as represent objective realities, 
the evidence of the truth of which is external, consisting in the 
conformity of these ideal representations to actual facts. There 
is a third order, consisting of propositions, which are supported 
by evidence of both kinds ; but these need not be separately 
considered. — Now to the first of these orders belong all the so- 
called " necessary truths ; " their necessity to us arising out of 
the existing constitution of our own minds, whether original or 
acquired (§ 201), or out of their exact conformity with some other 
ideas, w^hich we have already either accepted as " self-evident," or 
assume as the foundation of our reasoning. 

a. Thus Geometry, which consists in the study of the relations of 
Space, is founded upon two sets of propositions ; one set being the 
self-evident axioms or *' first truths" we have already considered 
(§ 200) ; whilst the other consists of definitions, which, while pro- 
fessing to represent objective realities, are really, for the most part, 
intellectual abstractions, with which nothing external to the mind 
actually corresponds. Now many simple propositions often cited as 
examples of "necessary truths," carry their own conviction to our 
minds, simply because either the contrary or anything else would be 
obviously inconsistent with some one of these fundamental ideas, 
Tlius we at once see that the proposition that "two straight lines can 
enclose a space " is absolutely contradictory to that " common- 
sense " conception of a straight line, which is clearer than any 
<2< finitiou yet framed; as is also the proposition that " any two sideg 
of a triangle can be either equal to or less than the third side." — It 
is by a succes^ion of such steps, each securely cemented to the one on 
which it rests, that w^e are led to the higher propositions of Geometry, 
•very one of which is as ' ' necessary " a truth to him who has thoroughly 



Progressive Approximation to Truth. 409 

mastered it, as are those just cited to the tyro ; its " self-evidence" 
cousisting in the mutual and indissoluble cohesion of the entire 
succession of ideas, which cohesion they derive from nothing else 
than the constitution of our own minds. 

6. The higher Mathematics, again, rest on a new set of ideas, 
which carry us still further from the range of objective experience ; 
these ideas, in some form or other, involving the notions of the infi- 
iiitely-great and the infinitely-small, and of never-ending approxima- 
tion to one or to the other. By the student whose mind has attained 
a certain stage of development, these ideas are as readily apprehended 
as are the ideas of a geometrical point or line by the tyro ; and the 
propositions which he builds upon them are no less '* necessary 
truths " to him, than is the 47th of the first Book of Euclid to the 
youth who has thoroughly mastered the train of reasoning which leads 
up to it. 

Hence it seems clear that our capacity for apprehending Truths 
of the first order, entirely depends on the Constitution of our own 
Minds ; and must necessarily be, like it, progressive. And for this 
view we have ample historic confirmation in the fact, that many 
propositions formerly accepted universally as "necessary truths," 
are now no less universally abandoned as untenable or even absurd ; 
whilst, on the other hand, we now accept as " necessary " many 
propositions which our ancestors would have scouted as prepos- 
terous. 

c. Thus the dogma of the Aristotelian philosophy, that, the Circle 
being the most perfect of figures, the celestial bodies must therefore 
move in circles, continued to hold its sway until the time of Kepler. 
And in like manner the proposition that Celestial motions continue 
without diminution because "natural," whilst Terrestrial motions miisi 
come to an end because " unnatural," was part of the unquestioned 
philosophical creed until the time of Newton; whose first Law of 
J^fotion is based on the idea that motion, whether celestial or 
ttrrestrial, is just as "natural" as rest. 

How far what we now regard as " necessary truths " may require 
niudification in the future, it is inipoissible for us to judge; 



4IO Of the Will. 



Bimply because we can no more conceive of anything beyond the 
range of mental development we have ourselves attained than 
a man born blind can picture visual objects. But foreshadowings 
of such a requirement are not wanting : — 

d. From certain recondite investigations which have been recently 
prosecuted by Mathematicians of disitinguished ability, the unexpected 
conclusion has been drawn that more than three dimensions in Space are 
ideally possible. The antagonism of this proposition, however, not only 
to our actual experience, but to any conceivable extension of it, leads 
to the suspicion that some fallacy lurks in the primary mathematical 
expression of "dimensions of space," on which the whole train of 
reasoning is founded; and that although, the result may be perfectly 
true as regards its conformity to that fundamental idea, it may not be 
true as representing any possible objective reality, — being, in fact, an 
ingenious mathematical quibble, not a real extension of our know- 
ledge. That we have no right, however, to tie ourselves down to the 
limits of our own experience in such a matter, has been ably urged by 
Prof. Helmholtz ; who has worked out the case of an Insect living on 
a plane surface, which could only know two dimensions of space by 
experience, and to which the notion of three would be probably as 
** unthinkable" as that of four or more is to ourselves. 

329. Proceeding now to propositions of the second order, the 
Truth of which depends on the conformity of the ideal statement 
to the objective reality, it is obvious that their basis is entirely 
experiential ; and that it must, therefore, be subject to contiuual 
modification from the enlargement of our range of observation, and 
the increasing precision of our methods. The first question in 
regard to any 'particular proposition, is whether it accurately 
represents the facts of the case ; and the first question in regard 
to any general proposition, is whether it accurately represents the 
facts of all the particular cases to which it applies. The conviction 
we feel as to any of the Truths of this order, rests on a basis verjf 
slifFerent from the preceding. There are fallacies of obsei-vatiou, 
fallacies of testimony, and fallacies of reasoning, against each oi 



Progressive Approximation to Truth. 4 1 1 

which it is necessary to guard ; and it is rather on the cumulative 
value of the evidence in their favour, on the mutual confirmation 
afforded by different methods of investigation, and on the absence 
of opposing considerations, that our convictions are based. The 
strength of such convictions may be such as to make them scarcely 
lnf«>rior in practical reliableness to the " necessary truths " of 
the purely subjective order. But even those which command 
GUI most unhesitating assent, will be accepted by the real Philo- 
sopher with a certain " reserve of possibility ; " as the nearest 
approximations to objective reality that the present state of know- 
ledge may justify, but as liable to modification by the extension of 
that knowledge. 

a. Thus, while no one doubts that there is an actual distance 
between the Earth and the Sun, no Astronomer expects that we shall 
ever be able to obtain more than an approximate determination of it ; 
and yet it is upon the basis of this determination, that the estimate 
of the distances of the other Planets entirely rests. 

fe. So, while no Chemist doubts that the diflFerent Elements have 
precise ** combining equivalents" or "atomic weights," no one 
would venture to affirm that these are at present exactly known. 
And while our present knowledge of these numerical relations is 
suflficiently precise for our existing requirements, it cannot be ac- 
counted improbable that new methods of research may modify our 
present estimates, perhaps by opening-up altogether new views of 
these relations. 

Thus, then, all the Truths of our second order mmt be progressive; 
that is, as our ideas can only approach to precise conformity with 
the objective realities they represent, a nearer approach will be 
for ever possible ; and this not merely from increased exactitude of 
observation, but from the augmented capacity of our minds to 
utilize its results. For, as has been well remarked, what we look 
upon as a straight line, the prolongation of whicli to infinity would 
only increase the distance between its two extremities, may really 
b© seen by beings of a wider range of vision as part of a circle 



41 2 Of the Will 



returning into itself. — It is this progressive character which imparts 
to objective Science one of its greatest elements of value as au 
intellectual discipline, and one of its greatest attractions as a 
pursuit. For what can be more conducive to a noble but 
self-restrained independence of thought, than the convictiorj 
tliat whatever we may accept as authoritative in the teachings of 
those whom we regard as our best guides in any department of 
investigation, must be accepted provisionally^ to be tested by the 
results of further inquiry, as our own conclusions will be in their 
turn 1 What, again, can be a better lesson of humility, than the 
remembrance that our own work will in its turn be reviewed by 
those who shall come after us ; and that however complete and 
satisfactory it may appear to ourselves, our successors will find 
much to add, if not to correct % And what can be a stronger 
stimulus to the zealous exercise of our best powers, than the con- 
viction that though we may never be able to attain to " absolute " 
truth, yet we can be for ever approximating to it ; ever striving up- 
wards, so as eitlier ourselves to reach, or to help our successors to 
reach, a still loftier elevation, whence a yet more comprehensive view 
may be obtained'? " Tendre k la perfection, sans jamais y pretendre," 
will ever be the animating spirit of the genuine Philosopher ; as tlie 
"forgetting the things behind, and reaching forth unto the things 
before " of the greatest of Christian Apostles, will continue to tho 
end of time to nerve the efforts of every true aspirant after Moral 
excellence. And if we sedulously cultivate this spirit, our Habits 
of Thought will shape themselves in accordance with it ; provided 
that we set before us an end which is not only worthy in itself. 
but is also suited to our capacity. "Let every md^njlnd his work,'* 
Carlyle has somewhere wisely said, *' and do it." The conformity 
between the objects of Human Knowledge and the faculties of 
the Human Mind, is such — however we may account for it— as to 
[provide fitting work for every one ; and in proportion as each does 
"with his might" whatsoever he "findeth to do," will be tba 



Influence of the Will on the Conduct. 413 

value of his own share in that progress in which true Vitality 
consists, and of his contribution to the progress of others, — 
not merely by the additions he may make to the general stock of 
Knowledge, but through the influence he exerts by his mode of 
seeking for it. For, as was admirably said by Dr. Thomas Browii^ -- 

" There is a Philosophic Spirit which is far more valuable than 
any limited attainments in Philosophy; and the cultivation of 
which, therefore, is the most precious advantage that can be 
derived from the lessons and studies of many Academic years : — 
a spirit which is quick to pursue whatever is within the reach 
of human intellect; but which is not less quick to discern the 
bounds that limit every human inquiry, and which, therefore, in 
seeking much, seeks only what man may learn : — which knows 
how to distinguish what is just in itself from what is merely 
accredited by illustrious names ; adopting a truth which no one 
has sanctioned, and rejecting an error of which all approve, with 
the same calmness as if no judgment were opposed to its own : — 
but which, at the same time, alive with congenial feeling to every 
intellectual excellence, and candid to the weakness from which no 
excellence is wholly privileged, can dissent and confute without 
triumph, as it admires without envy ; applauding gladly whatever 
is worthy of applause in a rival system, and venerating the very 
genius which it demonstrates to have erred." 



Section 4. — In^uence of the Will on the Direction of the Conduct. 

330. While the actions of the Biologized or Hypnotized subject 
are entirely determined, as will be shown hereafter (Chaps. XIV., 
XV.), by the motive power of Ideas and Feelings, the man in 
full possession of his Volitional faculty has the power (1) cf 
refraining from bodily action under the immediate pressure cf 
motives ; and (2) of so far modifying the relative force of motivet 
by the mode in which he mentally contemplates them, that 

Itbeir preponderance may be completely reversed. Hence hia 
ultimate determination, whilst still governed by the preponderancs 



414 Of the Will, 



of motices, may be entirely different from chat on whittili ho would 
have acted if he had given way to his first impulse. For just as 
we may direct our intellectual operations by an exercise of Voli- 
tion, so as to fix upon certain ideas only, out of the many which 
present themselves to our consciousness, and to limit om* attention 
to certain peculiar aspects of these (§ 324), so may we fix our 
attention upon any one or more among the motives which tend to 
determine our action, and keep these (as it were) in a strong light 
before the mental eye ; whilst, by withdrawing oiu* attention from 
others, we virtually throw them into the back-ground, as we can 
do with regard to objects of sensation (§ 123). And further, by 
calling the Reasoning powers into operation, and bringing them 
to bear upon the questions at issue, so as to follow-out each of the 
modes of action that are before the mind to its probable conse- 
quences, the Will indirectly brings a set of new motives, arising 
out of these consequences, before the judgment ; and these, at 
first overlooked, may become important elements in the decision. 
On the other hand, by thus reasoning-out the probable con- 
sequences of an action, motives which at first presented them 
selves in gi-eat strength, may lose more or less of their force, and 
even become altogether futile. 

331. Now if we examine into the different kinds of motive 
powers, which, under the permission or the intentional direction 
of the Will, are the sources of Human action, we shall find that 
they may be ranged under the following heads : — (1). Previously 
acquired habits, which automatically incite us to do as we have 
been before accustomed to do under the like circumstances, with- 
out the idea of prospective pleasure or pain, or of right or wroi ig, 
being at all present to our minds (Chap. VIII). Where the habita 
have been judiciously formed in the first instance, this tendency is 
an extremely useful one, prompting us to do that spontaneously, 
which might otherwise require a powerful effort of the Will : but 
if on the other hand, a bad set of habits have gi-own-up with the 



Influence of the Will on the Conduct. 415 

growth of the individual, or if a single bad tendency be allowed to 
become an habitual spring of action, a far stronger effort of Voli- 
tion will be required to determine the conduct in opposition to 
them. This is especially the case, when the habitual idea 
possesses an Emotional character, and thus becomes the source of 
desires, foi the more frequently these are yielded-to, the more 
powerful is the solicitation they exert. — (2). Emotional states^ 
which incite us tc particular actions, by the expectation of gratifi- 
cation, either in the acts themselves, or in some consequences 
which our reason leads us to anticipate from them ; or by the 
expectation of pain, if the act be not performed. All those desires 
and aversi^ons which have so large a share in determining our con- 
duct, come under this category : and to it must likewise be 
referred all those considerations which are simply prudential; 
these usually having reference to the remoter effects which our 
actions are likely to have upon our own welfare or upon that of 
others, and thus bringing before the mind, as elements in its 
determination, certain additional objects of desire or aversion. — 
(3). Notions of Right and of Duty, which, so far as they attach 
themselves to our actions, give them a moral and religious 
character. These may act simply as Ideas, whose coercive power 
depends upon the intensity with which they are brought before 
the mind ; but they obtain a much stronger influence, when they 
acquire an Emotional character, from the association of the feeling 
of desire with the idea of obligation, — that is, when we feel a wish 
to do that which we are conscious we ought to do, — an associa- 
tion which it is peculiarly within the capability of the Will to 
cheiish and strengthen. And still more potent is the opera- 
tion of these combined motives, when a constant habit of acting 
upon them has been formed, so as to give them the force of fixed 
principles; for if the question be always looked-at first in its 
Moral aspect, and a clear perception is attained of its right and 
its wrong siHe, the strongest desires and the strongest aversioni 
81 



41 6 Of the Will 



are repressed in their nascent stage, without exerting any 
Snflnence. 

Tho difference between the habitual, the prudential, and the woral 
aspects of the very same action, may be made apparent by a ver\ 
simple illustration : — We will suppose that a man has been accustomed 
to take a ride every day at a particular hour ; his whole nature so 
accommodates itself to the lidbit, that he feels both men"&ally and 
physically uncomfortable at any interruption to the usual rhythm. 
But suppose that, just as the appointed hour comes round, the sky 
becomes overcast, threatening the rider with a drenching if he 
perseveres in his intention ; his decision will then be founded on 
a 'prudential consideration of the relative probabilities of his escaping 
or of his being exposed to the shower, and of how far the enjoyment 
he may derive from his ride is likely to be replaced by the discomfort 
of a thorough wetting. But suppose, further, that instead of taking 
a mere pleasure-ride, a Medical man is about to set-forth on a 
professional visit to a patient whose condition requires his aid; 
a new motive is thus introduced, which alters the condition of 
the whole question, making it no longer one of prudence only, but 
one of morality. Another motive which should give the question 
a Moral aspect, would be consideration for himself, and the risk 
of life or health he might run : this should be decisive, where 
the motive which impels him to the act in question is merely 
that of self- gratification ; but if it bring into antagonism his 
duty to his patient and his desire to benefit him, and on the 
other hand his duty to himself and his regard for the ulterior 
welfare of those who may be immediately dependent upon him, 
the question has its right and its wrong aspect on both sides (§ 210), 
and the right may only be determinable after a careful balance of the 
considerations involved. 

332. In connection with the foregoing, it will not be inappro- 
priate to notice the manner in which the principle of Love, early 
.'oBtered by judicious Nursery training (§ 290, vV.), comes to 
modify the strictness of Volitional action on tli^sr principles of 
Eight and Justice in the subsequent intercourses of life. For 
it is genuine consideration for the feelings of others^ which cou- 



Inflicence of the Will 07i the Condttct, 4 1 7 

Btitutes the distinction between the courtesy of the true " gen- 
tleman" or "lady" (in whatever rank of life), and that mera 
external politeness which is nothing more than a social habit, 
and which may veil the meanest and most selfish dispositions. 
There ia nowhere, perhaps, a more beautiful instance of com- 
plementary adjustment between the Male and the Female 
character, than that which consists in the predominance of tlio 
Intellect and Will, which is required to make a man successful 
in the '' battle of life," and of the lively Sensibility, the quick 
Sympathy, the unselfish Kindliness, which give to woman the 
power of making the happiness of the home, and of promoting 
the purest pleasures of social existence. When we analyse the 
nature of that tact which is usually so much more strongly dis- 
played by Women than by Men, we find it (strange as this may 
seem) to rest in part on the same basis as Man's ordinary common 
se7ise (§ 374) ; being, like it (as was suggested to the Writer by 
Mr. J. S. Mill, p. 486), the resultant of the unconscious co-ordi- 
nation of " a long succession of small experiences, mostly forgotten, 
or perhaps never brought out into distinct consciousness ; " these 
experiences, however, being of a kind to impress the Sensibilities 
rather than the Reason, to be perceived by Sympathy rather than 
by Ideation. Like the higher form of " common sense" (§ 383), Tact 
is often so strongly manifested at a very early period of life, that 
we can scarcely refuse to it the character of an original intuition ; 
whilst it is also eminently capable of being acquired, or at any rate 
improved, by a Volitional culture which directs the attention to 
the impressions fitted to develope it : and it is in this way that a 
Woman comes to possess a direct insight as to what is due to 
consideration for others, which the duller and more rational- 
Btis apprehension of Man can seldom attain. This, unchecked 
by fc disciplined Moral sense, is apt to run to excess ; tending 
to " make things pleasant," at the expense of honest consistency 
But, when so restrained, it is an endowment so trustworthy, that 



^i8 Of the Will. 

every wise man will trust to the guidance of womanly Tact, 
wherever the question is one which it can fittingly resolve. 

333. If, now, taking our stand upon the foregoing Physiologi:.al 
and Psychological facts, and leaving out of view all embarrassing 
questions about " freedom " and " necessity," we apply ourselves 
to the practical inquiry as to the mode in which the Will re- 
gulates the ordinary course of our daily life, we shall be led 
to the following conclusions • — 

I. The Will is constantly initiating movement (as in walking 
or writing), or directing movement (as in speaking, § 307), 
without any present consciousness of motives; this initiation 
or direction being, in fact, the expression of a remotely-formed 
determination deliberately made and systematically acted on. Thus 
when a man chooses a certain profession, or undertakes a certain 
office, and does so with the fixed purpose of faithfully discharging 
its responsibilities, the habits he forms become a " second nature " 
to him ; he does not " stop to think " whether he shall or shall 
not perform any action which clearly forms part of his duties ; 
but his Will says to his body, " Do this," and the body does it 
accordingly : — 

Thus, no right-minded Medical man ever *' allows himself to 
think" of his own personal risk, when called to attend a case of 
malignant Scarlatina : he determinately puts either himself or his 
horse in motion, to obey a summons which comes to him in the 
ordinarj'^ course of his professional duty ; and if he does " allow him- 
self to think " of the risk of conveying the infection to his family, or 
to other patients, it is only as a motive to taking all possible pre- 
cautions agaiiist doing so. — Again, cases every now and then occur, 
in which a Medical man may feel sorely tempted by feelings of pure 
humanity, as well for the suflPerer as for those around him, to put an 
early termination to the hopeless agony of his patient, just as he 
would put a dog or a horse " out of its pain ; " and his Moral righty 
or even duty, to practise such a Euthanasia, has been seriously 
advanced and supported by arguments of no little force. But here 



Influence of the Will on the Conduct. 419 

he will fall back on that general rule of the Profession, which binds 
every member of it to do his utmost to prolong life and to mitigate 
suffering ; this being clearly beneficent on the whole, while the 
least infraction of it would lead to the gravest dangers in practice. 

In such circumstances, the Will carries out fixed principU'i of 
action; which, having been adopted by the Reason, under the 
guidance of the Moral sense, habitually rule the Conduct. 

II. But suppose, in the next place, that, as is constantly 
happening, these fixed principles of action come into collision with 
other motives, which strongly appeal to the " likes " or " dislikes '* 
of the individual : — 

The OflBcial, for example, may be sorely tempted to desert his 
post for a day, by some prospect of pleasure or advantage to himself; 
or the ill-paid Union- doctor to " shirk " attendance on some tedious 
and uninteresting " case," which will bring him neither credit nor 
remuneration. Now, a man who is determined to make duty his first 
consideration, will not allow himself to dwell upon his personal prefer- 
ences, but will say to himself, *'/ ought,'' or '^ I ought not,'' as the 
case may be ; thus fixing his attention on the principle of action 
which he has deliberately adopted, and thereby strengthening his 
determination to adhere to it ; whilst, in the same measure, he 
weakens the force of the temptation by withdrawing his attention 
from it. 

HcTe, again, the Will (though less immediately) carries out 
a fixed principle of action ; its power being secondarily exerted 
in intensifying the sense of obligation, and in keeping out of 
view the advantages and pleasures to be derived from an in- 
fraction of the strict rule of duty. And this secondary action 
of the Will comes to be the principal mode of its operation, 
wher the subject of the temptation so far hesitates, as to 
disiMss the question with himself; the ruling pri7>ciple being 
abj ndoned, and the question coming to be decided by motive 
influences of a loAver class. 

Thus, the Official may say to himself, "What harm will come of 



42C Of the Will. 



my absence ?" or, "Would not a day's holiday do me a great deal 
of good?'* — And tlie Union-doctor may find excuses for himself, in 
his hopeless^ness o^ doing any efi'ectual service, in the unthankful 
S}>irit with which his best endeavours have been treated, and in tho 
exhaustion of his own power which seems likely to result from Lht 
continuance of his efforts. 

Bui,, in such a discussion with one's self, the Will may still 
take an important part. For it can select^ among the motives 
which present themselves, those which the Moral Sense approves 
as the most worthy, and can intensify the force of these by 
-fixing the attention upon them ; whilst it can, in like manner, 
keep to a great extent out of sight those which it feels ought not 
to be admitted, and can thus diminish their force. And thus 
at last, while the decision is really formed by the "preponderance 
-^f motives," it is the action of the Will in modifjdng the force of 
ihose motives, that really determines which shall preponderate. — 
The Will is here, therefore, the expression of the higher Reason, 
controlling the operation of the selfish Propensities. 

III. But, further, the Will can 'put a check upon the bodily 
action to which some strong internal impulse would directly 
prompt ; so that time is gained for consideration, by which the 
further course is guided. This exertion of the Will may proceed 
from a fixed determination " not to give way " to such impulses ; 
and this determination, originally formed on a deliberate Moral 
judgment, becomes strengthened by every exercise of it. Here, 
again, our Volitional action is the expression of a Habit, which 
has become a part of our "second nature," overcoming the 
jiromptings of our original disposition. — If, after restraining the 
immediate impulse to action, we deliberate upon further steps, 
the Will has exactly the same power of modifying the decision 
»s in the preceding instance : — 

Thus, to take a not uncommon case, a man considers himself to 
have received an affront or injury, which his first imj)ulse is to 



IfiflMence of the Will on the Condtcct. 42 1 

resent. He restrains himself, however, by a strong effort, from 
immediate action ; that effort being the determinate expression of the 
general conclusion he may have long ago arrived at, that such 
immediate action is undesirable. Still he thinks that the matter 
requires some notice ; and his judgment tells him that whilst he ig 
still labouring under an excitement of feeling, he is not in a fit 
condition to decide what is best to be done. * And when, after a 
further prolongation of this Yolitional restraint, he comes at last 
calmly to consider the matter, his action is at last determined by the 
preponderance of the motives which his Will has selected as most 
fitting to be admitted into the discussion. 

IV. These experiences of Self-regulation have their parallel 
in the experience of our endeavours to influence the conduct of 
otJiers. For suppose, in the first place, that we are appealing to 
a man whom we know to act habitually and determinately 
upon his " sense of duty ;" — our whole aim is to convince 
his Reason that his Duty points in a certain direction, and we 
feel assured that, if once satisfied of this, he will carry out his 
determination to the best of his ability (§ 325 a, b). 

V. Again, we have to do with a less " resolute " man, — one 
who may admit that he ought to pursue a certain course, but 
who distrusts his own power to follow it out. We then endeavour 
to strengthen both his sense of Moral obligation, and his Volitional 
power of acting upon it ; for here the encouraging assurance that 
he can do so if he will only tr?/, gives the same kind of added force 
to the mental as it does to the bodily effort (§ 266). It is by giving 
a fixed basis of principle, or point d'appui, to this effort, that a 

* It is within the experience of many, that notldng so much relieves the mind 
under such circumstances, or forms such a good basis for subsequent action or inac- 
tion as writing a letter, in which adequate exj)ression is given to the disturbed feel- 
ing. The act itself discharges the mind of much of its Emotional excitement, on 
the i)rinciple formerly stated (§ 265) ; the fact that everything which has to be said 
h'xs been said, relieves the thoughts from the recurring tendency to seek for the 
modes of expressing it ; and when, after the lapse of a day or two, the letter (no^ 
having been sent) is reconsidered, the judgment can be calmly exercised in eithe* 
U;>ning it down, or putting it aside altogether. 



422 Of the Will 



definite "resolution" or "pledge" is often valuable. Thus it 
is proved by ample experience, that many a man who has not 
enough strength of Will to keep him from yielding to Alcoholic 
seduction, has enough to make him " keep the pledge " he has 
taken against it : the mere repetition to himself of a determina^ 
tion to do so, having the good effect of augmenting the force of 
that determination, and of helping him to keep out of the way 
of temptation. As it has been said that "a woman who deli- 
berates is lost," — the mere entertainment of the idea of a 
violation of chastity showing how strong a hold the temptation 
to it has already gained upon her, — so may it be said of the man 
who is strongly tempted to " break his pledge," that if he once 
allows himself to " think " about it, the force of that principle is 
grievously weakened. But we may strengthen his determination 
by directing his attention to the various collateral motives which 
we may deem most likely to influence him ; the operation of these, 
however, being most advantageous, when they give steadiness and 
fixity to the principle of action. 

VI. But, lastly, when we are dealing with a man of brutal 
nature, who is callous to all appeals to his sense of duty, and 
whose attitude is one of dogged defiance, we have to search out 
the most impressible part of his nature, and endeavour to work 
upon this by an appeal to some feeling that may be roused into 
motive force. Thus, on one side there may be some lingering 
affection for mother or sister, wife or child, which may be 
vivified by a skilful touch (§ 290 iv.). On the other, the dre^d of 
consequences may be wrought-upon ; the grief and shame that 
will be brought upon those for whom there is still a regard, being 
often more potent deterrents than the prospect of punishment 
to the individual. It is in the direction of the attention towardi 
all the deterrent motives which are found to have any potency , 
in the withdrawal of it from all those which attract to ill-doing, 
and in the prospect of reward for every exertion of self-control, 



I 



Influence of the Will on the Conduct. 423 

that the work of Criminal Reformation essentially consists ; the 
efficacy of that work being largely increased by the patient sympathi^ 
that has a softening influence on even the most brutal natures, 
and -oy the encouragement to " try again " after repeated lapgea. 
And so, in time, the tendency to act on the "impulse of :he 
moment" comes to be amenable to the control of the Moral 
Will ; while pri7iciples grow up under judicious discipline, whiijh, 
approving themselves to the reason, may ultimately acquire fixity 
and steadiness sufficient to determine the conduct, without any 
recurrence of the conflict between opposing motives. — This is, 
)f course, more feasible with juvenile than with adult Criminals ; 
liince bad habits, once constitutionally established, are not easily 
changed ; whilst during the period of growth, not only may had 
habits be more easily and completely eradicated, but good habits 
may be planted and fostered, growing with the growth, and 
strengthening with the strength (§ 289). 

334. Thus we see that, the less the potency of Volitional con- 
trol, the more completely is the Conduct of the individual 
governed by the direct " preponderance of motives ;" whilst the 
interposition of the Will operates for the most part in one of two 
ways ; either (1) by the determinate adherence to some fixed 
principle of action, — just-as a man who is falling over a precipice 
tenaciously holds-on to any ledge to which he can cling;— or (2) 
by that modification of the relative force of opposing motives, 
which is effected by the determinate attention to some, and 
determinate ^attention to others. It is in that important period 
of each life, when the Youth is first left to his own direction, and 
has to make his own choice of the principles which are henceforth 
to be the guides of his life, that the value of a resolute determina" 
l'x)n to "turn to the right, and keep straight on," is the greatest ; 
and however potent may huve been the influence of judicious 
training and discipline in giving a right direction to the thoughts 
and feelings, and in repressing or diverting the violence of 



(^24. Of the Will. 



passion, it is only the established habit of se^-direction and 
telf-GOYitro\ that can give real steadiness to a resolution, real 
fi )rce to a determination. And thus we may truly say that the 
power which the Will of any individual can exert in a great crisiSc 
is the " resultant " of his whole previous Mental life ; being 
proportional to the degree in which he has habituated himself to 
keep the spontaneous or automatic activity of his mind under 
Volitional control, instead of allowing himself to be the sport ol 
his intellectual vagaries, the slave of his passionate impulses. 

As Dr. J. D. Morell has well said {Introduction to Mental Philo- 
sophy, p. 375), " The education of the Will is really of far greater 
importance, as shaping the destiny of the individual, than that of 
the Intellect; and it should never he lost sight of by the practical 
Educator, that it is only by the amassing and consolidating our 
volitional residua in certain given directions, that this end can be 
secured. Theory and doctrine, and inculcation of laws and pro- 
positions, will never of themselves lead to the uniform habit of right 
action. It is by doing, that we learn to do ; by overcoming, that 
we learn to overcome ; by obeying reason and conscience, that we 
learn to obey ; and every right act which we cause to spring out of 
pure principles, whether by authority, precept, or example, will have 
a greater weight in the formation of character than all the theory in 
the world." 

335. But to carry into action the Volitional determination, to 
give to the I will its practical effect, something more is usually 
needed than the mere " preponderance of motives." The Idea of 
the thing to be done (which we have seen to be the necessary ante- 
cedent of all Volitional action, § 305), may, indeed, be so decided 
and forcible, when once fully adopted, as of itself to produce a degree 
of Nervous tension that serves to call forth respondent Muscular 
movements, — as in the purely Ideo-motor fo^-m of action (§ 235). 
Thfis, cases are not uncommon, in which persons who have ha^i 
Bome difficulty in " making up their minds " to a particular course, 
fiuil themselves borne along, as by the rush of a stream that has 



Inflitence of the Will on the Conduct. 425 

been let out by the opening of a flood-gate, when once they have 
committed themselves to it. But in general, a distinct exertion of 
the Will is needed to give to the Ideational state the eneigy 
lequisite to call forth the action that expresses it ; ai;d this ia 
e.^pecially the case, where either some powerfully oppo&ing motive 
diminishes the force of the preponderance, or a state of fatigue 
causes the bodily mechanism to be less easily called into action. 
Reasons have been already adduced (§§ 308, 309) for the 
belief, that the Volitional exertion really consists in an intensifica- 
tion of the hypersemio state of the Ideational centre ; which will 
produce an augmented tension of its nerve-force, whose discharge 
through the motor centres calls forth the muscular movement. 
And this may take place without a corresponding intensification 
of the idea itself; if, according to the doctrine previously ad- 
vanced (§ 100), we only become conscious of Cerebral changes as 
Ideas, when their influence has been reflected downwards to the 
Sensorium. 

336. It must not be forgotten, however, that the Volitional 
power may be turned to a bad as well as to a good account ; and 
that the value of its results will entirely depend upon the direction 
in which it is employed.' The thoughts may be so determinately 
drawn away from the higher class of motives, the suggestions of 
Conscience, of Afi'ection, or of Benevolence, so habitually dis- 
regarded, and the whole attention so completely fixed upon the 
gratification of the selfish or malevolent propensities, that the 
Human nature acquires far more of the Satanic than of the Divine 
character; the highest development of this type being displayed oy 
tliose who use their power of self-control for the purposes of 
hypociisy and dissimulation, and cover the most malignant designs 
under the veil of friendship. Such men (whose portraitiu-e is 
presented by our great Dramatist in the character of lago) show 
us to what evil account the highest Intellect and the most powerful 
Will may be turned, when directed by the baser class of motives; 



^26 Of the Will. 



Bad w^e cannot but feel that they are far lower in the Moral scale, 
than those who have never known the meaning of Love and 
Truth, Kindness and Honesty, 

337. Of this latter class there are some, who, from original consU- 
tution and early influences of the most degrading kind, are altogether 
destitut e of anything but a hrutal nature : these ought to be 
treated as irresponsible beings, and, as such, restrained by exter- 
nal coercion from doing injury to society. But this class is small 
m proportion to that of individuals who act viciously, simply 
because they have never been led to know that any other course is 
open to them, or to feel any motives that might give them a 
different impulse. The experience of those who have undertaken 
the noble work of Juvenile Reformation, has satisfied them that 
the cases are few, if any, in which there is not " a holy spot in the 
child's heart," on which an impression may be made by appro- 
priate suggestions ; and that by following the method of the good 
nurse (§ 269), the power of self-control, which seems in the first 
instance altogether absent, may be awakened and cherished, the 
lower propensities repressed by a judicious mixture of restraint 
and distraction, and the higher tendencies called by the genial 
warmth of sympathy into full activity, so that the little reprobate 
most truly becomes "a new creature." — If it be assumed as a 
fundamental principle, that every part of our Nature has its usft 
as well as its ahuse, — our propensities and passions not being evil 
in themselves, but evil only in their excess and misdirection, — it is 
wonderful what effects may be produced by the judicious guidance 
of their energy towards innocent or worthy objects. A latent 
nobleness and vigour of character not unfrequently shows itself 
under such treatment, in youths who have been (in a manner) 
forced into antagonism by the ill-judged sternness of parents, 
and who, when left to themselves, have committed extravagances 
of conduct that have caused them to be stigmatized as hopeless 
outcasts; while many a naughty girl who has been driven 



Injiue7ice of the Will on the Condtcct. 427 

by mismanagement into rebellion at home, has been moulded 
into an admirable woman by the skilful discipline of a wise 
schoolmistress (§ 272). 

338. There is a negative type of character again, on ivhich iLe 
•falsest Educator finds it difficult to make any permanent imprea- 
sion, tlirough constitutional want of self-determining power. The 
intellectual capacity may not be below, or may even be above, the 
average, and generally the disposition may be amiable; and yet 
there may be little power of resisting a seductive temptation, or of 
holding fast to any fixed principle of action. Individuals of this 
type are, to a great degree, the " creatures of circumstances." 
Under conditions favourable to the operation of the better part of 
their Natm-e, they may not only lead blameless and useful lives, 
but be credited with Moral excellencies which they do not really 
possess. For let the same individuals be subjected to the 
insidious influence of attractive but immoral companionship, 
or come to a rugged and thorny place in a path of Duty that had 
previously been smooth and pleasant to them, having no stability 
of purpose, they fall away ; and when they have once entered on 
the downward course, they can only be checked in it by volun- 
tarily submitting themselves to renewed control. 

It is an old and just observation, that youths who have been 
•* brought up at their mothers' apron-strings," are the most likely to 
•' go wrong " when first thrown upon their own guidance; and that 
when such once begin to go astray, they soonest run into wild ex- 
cesses. The rationale of this seems to be, that the tendency of such 
an education is usually to repress, instead of fostering, hgJbits of 
independence and self- regulation ; and too frequently to weaken, 
instead of strengthening, the force of Moral obligation, by attach- 
ing to Bmall things the same importance as to great. If a lad is 
constantly watched and never trusted, he is almost sure to abuse his 
liberty when he first acquii-es it. And if he is taken to task as 
severely for spilling ink on a table-cloth or for tearing his clothes, as 
for telling a lie or appropriating what does not belong to him, -it 



^28 Of the Will. 



is not to be wondered-at that lie should come to regard the graver 
offences in the same light as those which he feels to be venial. 

With a character of this type, the object of the judicious 
Educsitor will be to invigorate the whole nature, corporeal as well 
as physical ; to find out what worthy objects of pursuit have 
the most attraction for his pupil, and to aid and encourage 
his steady pursuit of them, not by removing difficulties from 
his path, but by helping him to surmount them ; and in 
this manner to foster habits of self-reliance, which, when once 
formed, whether in regard to manly exercises, or to the work 
of the intellect, may be looked to as available for the Moral 
direction of the conduct. 

339. The highest exercise of the Will is shown in those who are 
endowed with vigorous Intellectual powers, and whose strong 
Emotional nature gives force' to all their tendencies to action ; but 
who determinately fix their attention on the divine ideal, and 
steadily endeavour to shape their character and direct their con- 
duct in accordance with it. This is not to be effected by dwelling 
exclusively on any one set of motives, or by endeavouring to repress 
the energy which is in itself healthful. Even the idea of Duty, 
operating alone, tends to reduce the individual to the subservience 
of a slave doing his master's bidding, rather than to make him 
master of himself ; but it gives most powerful aid in the acquire- 
ment of that power of fixing the thoughts and affections on 
*' things on high," which most effectively detaches them from 
what is earthly and debasing. It is by the assimilation, rather 
than by the subjugation, of the Human Will to the Divine, that 
Man is really lifted towards God; and in proportion as this 
asiiimilation has been effected, does it manifest itself in the lift^ 
and conduct; so that even the lowliest actions become holy 
ministrations in a temple consecrated by the felt presence of the 
Divinity. Such was the Life of the Saviour j towards that stan- 
dard it is for the Christian disciple to aspire. 



BOOK IT. 

SPECIAL PHYSIOLOGY 



CHAPTER X. 

OP MEMORY. 



840. There is no part of our purely Psychical activity, the relation 
cf which to Physical conditions is more obvious and more intimate, 
than that reproduction of past states of consciousness, which, when 
supplemented by the recognition of them as having been formerly 
experienced, we call Memory. It is now very generally accepted 
by Psychologists as (to say the least) a probable doctrine, that any 
Idea which has once passed through the Mind may be thus repro- 
duced, at however long an interval, through the instrumentality 
of suggestive action ; the recurrence of any other state of con- 
sciousness with which that idea was originally linked by Associa- 
tion, being adequate to awaken it also from its dormant or 
"latent" cf^ndition, and to bring it within the *' sphere of con- 
sciousness." And as our ideas are thus linked in "trains" or 
" series," which further inosculate with each other like the branch 
lines of a railway or the ramifications of an arteiy, so, it is 
considered, an idea which has been " hidden in the obscure 
recesses of the mind " for years — perhaps for a lifetime, — and 
which seems to have completely faded out of the conscious Memory 
(having never either recurred spontaneously, oi been found 



4-30 Of Memory, 



capable of recall by volitional Recollection), may be reproduced, aa 
by the touching of a spring, through a nexus of suggestions, 
which we can sometimes trace-out continuously, but of which it 
does not eeem necessary that all the intermediate steps should fall 
within our cognizance.* Such a reproduction not unfrequentlj 
takes place, when persons revisiting certain scenes of their child- 
hood; have found the renewal of the sensorial impressions of 'place% 
bring vividly back tc their minds the remembrance of evenU which 
had occurred in connection with them; and which had not only 
been long forgotten by themselves, but, if narrated to them by 
others, would not have been recognised by them as having ever 
formed part of their own experience. And it is not a little 
significant that the basis of such memories appears capable of being 
laid at a very early period of life ; as in the two following cases, 
of which the first is recorded by Dr. Abercrombie, whilst the 
second was mentioned to the Writer by the subject of it : — 

a. " A lady, in the last stage of chronic disease, was carried from 
London to a lodging in the country : — there her infant daughter was 
taken to visit her, and, after a short interview, carried back to town. 
The lady died a few days after, and the daughter grew up without 
any recollection of her mother, till she was of mature age. At this 
time she happened to be taken into the room in which her mother 
died, without knowing it to have been so : — she started on entering 
it, and, when a friend who was with her asked the cause of her 
agitation, replied, * I have a distinct impression of having been in 
this room before, and that a lady who lay in that corner and seemed 
very ill, leaned over me and wept.' " — [Intellectual Powers, 5th Ed. 
p. 120.) 

b. Several years ago, the Eev. S. Hansard, now Rector of BethnaJ 
Giaan, was doing clerical duty for a time at Hurstmonceaux in 
Sussex ; and while there, he one day went over with a party oi 

* This disappearance of some of the links from Consciousness, " as completely 
W if they had never formed part of the series," is a fact admitted by Psychologista 
of all schools, whatever may be their rationale of it. — See Mr. John Mill's N^ta 
W> his Edition of James Mill's "Analysis," vol. i. p. 106. 



Me^nory the Reproduction of Ideas. 431 

friends to Pevensey Castle, wMcli he did not remem"ber to have ever 
previously visited. As lie approached the gateway, he became 
conscious of a very vivid impression of having seen it before ; and he 
*' seemed to himself to see " not only the gateway itself, but donkeys 
beneath the arch, and people on the top of it. His conviction thai 
he must have visited the Castle on some former occasion, — although 
he had neither the slightest remembrance of such a visit, nor any 
knowledge of having ever been in the neighbourhood previously to 
his residence at Hurstmonceaux, — made him enquire from his 
mother if she could throw any light on the matter. She at once 
informed him that being in that part of the country when he waa 
about eighteen months old, she had gone over with a large party, and 
had taken him in the pannier of a donkey ; that the elders of the 
party, having brought lunch with them, had eaten it on the roof of 
the gateway where they would have been seen from below, whilst he 
had been left on the ground with the attendants and donkeys. — This 
case is remarkable for the vividness of the Sensorial impression (it 
may be worth mentioning that Mr. Hansard has a decidedly 
Artistic temperament), and for the reproduction of details which 
were not likely to have been brought up in conversation, even if he 
had happened to hear the visit itself mentioned as an event of his 
childhood, and of such mention he has no remembrance whatever. 

c. '* A remarkable case is mentioned by a writer (Miss H. Marti- 
neau ?) of a congenital idiot who had lost his mother when he was 
under two years old, and who could not have subsequently been made 
cognizant of anything relating to her ; and who yet, when dying at 
the age of thirty, " suddenly turned his head, looked bright and 
sensible, and exclaimed in a tone never heard from him before, ' Oh 
my mother ! "how beautiful ! ' and sunk round again — dead.' " — [House' 
hold Words, vol. ix. p. 200.) 

341. Although it is commonly stated that Memory consists in 
the renewal of past Sensations and of the Ideas they have excited, 
it may be questioned whether impressions are really left on our 
minds by anything else than Ideas; and whether the repro- 
duction of Sensations, independently of the presence of the object 
of them, is not a secondary change, dependent upon the reaction 
32 



432 Of Memory, 

of Ideational (Cerebral) changes upon the Sensorium. It is certain 
that the most vivid reproduction of sensations is often consequent 
upon the recurrence of the ideational states with which they were 
originally associated. Thus a Roman Catholic friend of the 
Writer, who, when a boy, had gone to Confession for the first time 
with his mouth full of the taste of a sweet cake, which he had 
been eating just before, and his digestion of which had been 
emotionally disturbed, never went on the same errand for some 
years, without the distinct recurrence of the same flavour. Again, 
it is by no means uncommon for those who suffer acutely from Sea- 
sickness, to experience nausea at the mere sight of an agitated 
ocean, especially if a wave-tossed vessel bo within view ; and a like 
feeling, it is said, has been excited by the sight of a toy, in which 
(by a peculiar combination of levers) the motion of a ship was 
imitated with peculiar fidelity. The Writer, indeed, was once as- 
sured by a lady that she had herself been affected with an actual 
pa»'oxysm of sea-sickness, through having witnessed the departure 
of a friend by sea on a stormy day. — Such facts, indeed, are so 
familiar as to have become proverbial ; for the common expression 
'* it makes me sick to think of it " is nothing else than the 
expression of a Sensorial feeling excited by an Ideational state. 

342. This Sensorial feeling may, indeed, be so intense, as to repro- 
duce any bodily action that originally supervened on its first excite- 
ment. Thus Van Swieten relates of himself, that, having chanced to 
pass a spot where the bursting of the dead body of a d«g produced 
such a stench as made him vomit, on passing the same spot sowks 
years afterwards he was so vividly affected by the recollection, that 
the sickness and even vomiting recurred. So it must be within the 
experience of every one, that tears rise at some painful or tender 
reminiscence ; that the mental reproduction of circumstances 
which originally produced a blush of shame or self-consciousness, 
will call forth not merely the same emotion, but the same expres- 
sion of it ; and that laughter is as often provoked by the remen)' 



AtUoinatic Reproduction of Ideas. 433 

brance of some ludicrous incident, as it is by its actual occurrence. 
These facts, indeed, are so familiar, that they may seem too trivial 
to deserve notice ; but they have just the same significance as the 
equally familiar fact, that Coughing may be produced either by the 
stimulus of an irritation in the throat, or by the stimulus of a 
Volitional, i. e.. Cerebral determination (§ 17). For they all tend 
to show that the immedmie instrumentality of cmr Sensational cou' 
tci^usness is always the same, whether its remote Physical antecedent 
be an impression on the organs of the external senses, trans- 
mitted to the Sensorium through their afferent nerves, or be a 
change in the cortical substance of the Cerebrum — the instru- 
ment of the internal senses — transmitted downwards to the 
Sensorium by the nerve-fibres which constitute its medullary 
substance (§ 100). 

342. It seems a strong confirmation of this doctrine, that if we 
M^is/i, to reproduce any Sensational state, — whether Visual, Auditory, 
Olfactive, Gustative, or Tactile, — we first recall by Recollection 
(§ 370) the notion of some object by which that state was for- 
merly produced ; and it is only by giving our attention strongly 
to that notion, that we can bring ourselves to see, hear, smell, taste, 
or feel that which we desire to experience. Indeed it is not every 
one who can thus reproduce Sensational states, the general notion 
being most commonly all that is arrived-at ; of this we have a 
good illustration in the conception we form of the face of an absent 
friend, — the number of persons who are able to reproduce the 
Visual image with sufficient distinctness to serve as a model for 
delineation, being comparatively small, although a much larger 
number would be able to say how far such a delineation realized 
their own conception of the countenance, and to point-out in 
what it might depart from this. — A further confirmation of thia 
view is to be found in the familiar fact, that the expression of 
a countenance, which directly appeals to our Ideational conscious- 
uess, is much more distinctly recollected by most persons thaa 



4-34 ^f Memory, 



the features^ the recognition of which is more dependent upon 
the recall of antecedent Sensational experiences. — What ia 
true of the act of Recollection in this particular, is probably 
true also in great degree of spontaneous Memory ; for although 
Buch a case as that to be presently related (§ 344 d) might seem 
to indicate that there may be a mere Sensorial memory — words 
and phrases being reproduced by their sound alone, without the 
attachment of anj distinct meaning to them, — yet it can scarcely 
be doubted by those who have carefully studied the phenomena of 
Dreaming and Delirium, that what was really reproduced in the 
the first instance was the patient's idea of her old master reciting 
as he walked up and down his passage ; and that it was this idea 
which prompted her utterance of the words and phrases whose 
sounds had come to be habitually associated witti it. 

343. Now, it is obviously upon this recording of impressions, so 
that they are reproduced as Ideas when the appropriate suggesting 
strings are pulled, that all our accumulated knowledge depends. For 
when we say that we " know " a language, or an author, or a depart- 
ment of science, we do not mean that the whole or even any part of 
that knowledge is present to our minds at the time ; since, as Sir 
William Hamilton has justly remarked, "the infinitely greater part 
of our spiritual treasures lies always beyond the sphere of our 
consciousness." The perfection of our knowledge consists, in fact, 
in the readiness and precision with which the appropriate words 
or ideas spontaneously present themselves, whenever we desire to 
bring them within the sphere of our consciousness ; and this action 
depends upon the strength of the association previously formed 
between the word or idea actually before the mind at each momeat, 
and that which furnishes the response to it. Thus, in speaking 
a foreign language with which we are thoroughly conversant, the 
automatic play of suggestion calls up the successive words or 
phrases that express the equivalents of those in which our thoughts 
have shaped themselves. In quoting a book with which we are 



Auto7natic Reproduction of Ideas. 435 

familiar, the sequence of a long passage may be suggested by the 
mention of its first words, or by the starting of the idea that forms 
the subject of it. And when the man of science is called upon to 
"explain" a fact, his mind goes forth, as it were, in the direction 
mi)8t likely to lead to the recall of similar facts which he has pre- 
f iously learned, and to that of some principle common to them all. 
— On the other hand, we say that we have "forgotten" a word 
or an idea, when we are conscious of the fact that we must have 
once known it, but cannot reproduce it at the moment. Thus, 
as a recent writer has remarked : — 

a. * ' If we have ever known a thing, the question whether we can 
be said to know it at any particular time, is simply whether we can 
readily reproduce it from the storehouse of our memory. — There are 
some ideas, which, if we may use so material an illustration, are 
systematically arranged in cupboards to which we have immediate 
access, so that we generally know exactly where to find what we 
want ; this is the case with the knowledge that we have in constant 
daily use. And yet to whom has it not occurred to be unable to 
recollect, on the spur of the moment, a name or a phrase that is 
generally most familiar to him ; just as he often fails to remember 
where he laid his spectacles, or his pencil-case, only five minutes 
before? — There are other ideas, again, which we know we have 
got put away somewhere, but cannot find without looking for them ; 
as when we meet an acquaintance whom we have not seen for a 
long time, and recognise his face without being able to recall his 
name; or when we go to a foreign country, the language of which 
we have once thoroughly mastered, and find ourselves in the first 
instance unable either to speak or to understand it. In these cases, 
the lost ideas are pretty certain either to be found, if we look for 
them, by putting in action that associative train of thought which 
we term recollection ; or to turn up, spontaneously and unex- 
pectedly, when the effort to recollect has proved a failure, and we 
have abandoned the search as hopeless. — There is other knowledge, 
again, which we are not conscious either of possessing, or of ever 
having possessed ; as in the conjugal experience familiar to most 
of us, in which a husband assures the wife of his bosom (the 



43^ Of Meinory, 



converse case being perhaps hardly less frequent) that she never did 
tell him of some occurrence which Ae should most certainly have 
remembered if she had : and yet he may be brought to recollect, 
days or weeks afterwards, by the accidental shining-in of a light 
upon some dark corner of his * chamber of imagery,' that tlie 
communication was really made, but was put away without anj 
ftf'count being taken of it at the time." — {Quarterly Review, Oct. 1871, 
p 318.) 

A distinguished Equity Judge has recently favoured the Writer 
with the following experience : — 

h. It has frequently occurred to him that ** further proceedings '* 
having been taken in a ** cause " which he had " heard" some years 
previously, and had dismissed altogether from his mind, he has found 
himself in the first instance to have totally forgotten the whole of 
the former proceedings, not being even able to recollect that the 
" cause " had been previously before him. But in the course of the 
argument, some word, phrase, or incident has furnished a suggestion, 
that has served at once to bring the whole case vividly into his recol- 
lection ; as if a curtain had been drawn away, and a complete 
picture presented to his view. — The eutireness of his previous forget- 
ful ness was probably due to the habit common to Barristers, of 
*' getting up" their cases only to forget them as soon as possible 
(§ 362). 

344. Now there is very strong Physiological reason to believe that 
this " storing-up of ideas " in the Memory is the psychological 
expression of physical changes in the Cerebrum, by which idea- 
tional states are permanently registered or recorded ; so that any 
** trace" left by them, although remaining so long outside the 
•'sphere of consciousness" as to have seemed non-existent, may 
he revived again in full vividness under certain special concitionb, 
— just as the invisible impression left upon the sensitive paper c/ 
the Photographer, is developed into a picture by the application 
of particular chemical re-agents. For in no other way does it 
eeem possible to account for the fact of very frequent occurrence, 
that the presence of a fever-poison in the blood, — perverting the 



Automatic Reproduction of Ideas. 437 

normal activity of the Cerebrum, so as to produce Delirium (§ 548) 
— brings within the "sphere of consciousness" the "traces" of 
mental experiences long since past, of which, in the ordinary 
condition, there was no remembrance whatever. Thus, the 
revival, in the delirium of fever, of the remembrance of a 
Language once familiarly known, but long forgotten, has been 
4>ften noticed. The following case was mentioned to the Writer 
many years ago by a Medical friend, as having fallen under hi* 
own observation : — 

«. " An old Welch man-servant, who had left Wales at a very early 
d^e, and had lived with one branch or another of this gentleman's 
lamily for fifty years, had so entirely forgotten his native language, 
that when any of his Welch relatives came to see him, and spoke in 
the tongue most familiar to tliem, he was quite unable to understand it ; 
but having an attack of fever when he was past seventy, he talked 
Welch fluently in his Delirium." 

The following cases, recorded by Dr. Eush of Philadelphia, have 
points of interest peculiar to each : — 

h. " An Italian gentleman, who died of yellow fever in New York, 
in the beginning of his illness spoke English, in the middle of it 
French, but on the day of his death only Italian." 

c. " A Lutheran clergyman of Philadelphia informed Dr. E. that 
Germans and Swedes, of whom he had a considerable number in his 
congregation, when near death always prayed in their native 
languages ; though some of them, he was confident, had not spoken 
these languages for fifty or sixty years." 

The following case, mentioned by Coleridge, is one of the most 
remarkable on record : its distinguishing feature being that the 
})atient could never have known anj^thing of the meaning of the 
feentences she uttered : — 

d. "In aEoman Catholic town in Germany, a young woman, who 
could neither read nor write, was seized with a fever, and was said 
by the priests to be possessed of a devil, because she was heard 



438 " Of Memory. 



talking Latin, Greek, and Hebrew. Whole sheets of her ravinga 
were written out, and found to consist of sentences intelligible in 
themselves, but having slight connection with each other. Of her 
Hebrew sayings, only a few could be traced to the Bible, and most 
seemed to be in the Eabbinical dialect. All trick was out of the 
4}uestion ; the woman was a simple creature ; there was no doubt aa 
to the fever. It was long before any explanation, save that of 
demoniacal possession, could be obtained. At last the mystery was 
unveiled by a physician, who determined to trace back the girl's 
history, and who, after much trouble, discovered that at the age 
of nine* she had been charitably taken by an old Protestant pastor, 
a great Hebrew scholar, in whose house she lived till his death. 
On further inquiry it appeared to have been the old man's custom 
for years to walk up and down a passage of his house into which 
the kitchen opened, and to read to himself with a loud voice out of 
his books. The books were ransacked, and among them were found 
several of the Greek and Latin Fathers, together with a collection 
of Eabbinical writings. In these works so many of the passages 
taken down at the young woman's bed-side were identified, that 
there could be no reasonable doubt as to their source." — BiograpMa 
Literaria, edit. 1847, vol. i. p. 117. 

345. The same occurrence has been noticed as a consequence of 
accidental blows on the head ; though these more commonly 
occasion the loss than the recovery of a language. The following 
case of this kind is mentioned by Dr. Abercrombie, as having 
occurred in St. Thomas's Hospital : — • 

' ' A man who had been in a state of stupor consequent upon an 
injury of the head, on his partial recovery spoke a language which 
nobody in the hospital understood, but which was soon ascertained 
to be Welch. It was then discovered that he had been thirty years 
absent from Wales, and that, before the accident, he had entirely 
forgotten his native language. On his perfect recovery he comp'ttely 
forgot his Welch again, and recovered the English language." — Op, 
cit. p. 148. 

346. If the following case, given by Dr. Abercrombie as having 
been related to him, be correctly recorded, the " traces " may be 






Automatic Reprodicctio7i of Ideas. 439 

registered under conditions in which the Mind seeim altogethet 
dormant : — 

" A boy at the age of four suffered fracture of the skull, for 
which he underwent the operation of the trepan. He was at the 
time in a state of perfect stupor, and, after his recovery, retained 
h-O recollection either of the accident, or of the operation. At the 
*ge of fifteen, however, during the delirium of fever, he gave his 
mother an account of the operation, and the persons who were 
present at it, with a correct description of their dress, and other 
minute particulars. He had never been observed to allude to it 
before ; and no means were known by which he could have acquired 
the circumstances which he mentioned," — Op. ai., p. 149.* 

347. It seems perfectly clear, then, that under what we cannot 
but term purely physical conditions, strictly mental phenomena 
present themselves. It is common to the whole series of cases, 
that the automatic action of the " Mechanism of Thought " does 
that which Volition is unable to effect. Whether it be the toxic 
condition of the blood, or the simple excitement of the cerebral 
circulation generally, or the special direction of blood to a 
particular part of the brain, it is beyond our present power to 
tell ; but as all Brain-change is (like the action of any other 
mechanism) the expression of Force, the production of these 
unusual mental phenomena by the instrumentality of an unusual 
reaction between the blood and the brain-substance is no more 
difficult of comprehension, • than that of those ordinary {orm^& of 
Psychical activity, which we have seen reason to regard as the 
results of the translation (so to speak) of one form of Force into 
another (§ 42). 

348 It must be freely admitted that we have at present no certain 
knowledge of the mode in which the recording process is effected : 

* A variety of interesting cases, illustrating the general principles above 
stated, will be found in Dr. Abercrombie's little volume, and in Dr. Prichard** 
valuable Treatise on Insanitv. 



4 4<^ Of Memory, 



but looking to the considerations already adduced, as to the 
manner in which the Sensori-motor apparatus — the instrument of 
our bodily activity — appears to grow to the mode in which it is 
habitually exercised (§278), we seem justified in assuming thai 
the same thing is true of the Cerebrum, which is the instrument 
of our mental activity ; and the following may be suggested ag 
a Physiological rationale for the phenomena under consideration : — 
The record of each of those states of consciousness, of the 
aggregate of which the acquirement of a Language is made 
up, must consist in some change in the nutrition of the brain ; 
say, for example, the development of a certain group of nerve 
cells and nerve-fibres, constituting one connected system. The 
material particles constituting this system are continually 
changing ; but, according to the laws of Nutrition (§ 276), 
the structure itself is kept up by re-position of new matter in the 
precise form of the old. So long as this structure remains in acting 
connection with other parts of the Brain habitually called into 
play, the conscious memory of the Language is retained ; that is, 
the individual wishing to recall the word or phrase that expresses 
the idea present to his mind, can do so. But by disuse this 
becomes more and more difficult. Thus it happens to the Writer, 
as doubtless to many others, that if an unusually long interval 
elapses without his having occasion to speak French, he finds him- 
self unable to call to mind French words and phrases, which, if 
spoken to him, or seen in writing, he at once understands ; and 
yet, after being a week or two in France, and in the daily habit of 
Bpeaki ng the language, he finds his ideas shaping themselves iu 
French in the first instance, without the process of translation. The 
Physiologist would say that the nerve- tracks which disuse has ren- 
dered imperle3t, have restored themselves by use ; so that the 
part of the brain which has recorded the Language, has been 
brought back into ready connection with that which ministers to 
the current play of ordinary Thought But a more prolonged disuse 



Mechanism of Recording Process. 441 

gradually produces such a disseverance, that no Volitional effort 
can bring about the recall of equivalents in a language once eveu 
more familiar than that of later years ; and yet the Mechanism of 
the earlier thought is still preserved in working order, ready to be 
cj Ued into action by some unwonted stimulus. 

349. The intimacy of the relation between the Psychical phenomena 
v.>l Memory and the Physical condition of the Brain, is farther showu 
by the effect of fatigue and of the impaired nutrition of old age 
in weakening the Memory ; and of disease and injury of the brain 
in impairing it or destroying it. 

350. Every one is conscious of the difference in the activity of the 
reproductive faculty on which Memory depends, according as his 
mind is fresh, or his head feels tired. The latter state, in which 
the automatic activity and the directing power of the Will are 
alike reduced, is clearly dependent, like the feeling of Muscular 
fiitigue, on the deterioration either of the organ, or of the blood, or 
of both combined, which results from the prolonged exercise of it 
(§ 474) ; and it is especially in our inability to recollect something 
which we wish to call to mind, that the failure of power shows 
itself. An interval of repose completely restores the powers, 
obviously (to the mind of the Physiologist) by the renovation of 
the worn-out brain-tissue, and by the pm^ification of the blood that 
has become charged with the products of its "waste." — So, transient 
lapses of Memory are often traceable to a general lowering of the 
circulation produced by exhaustion ; the memory returning with 
the recovery of general power. 

Thus Sir H. Holland tells us : — *' I descended on the same day two 
very deep mines in the Hartz Mountains, remaining some hours 
under ground in each. While in the second mine, and exhausted both 
fi om fatigue and inanition, I felt the utter impossibility of talking 
longer with the German Inspector who accompanied me. Every 
German word and phrase deserted my recollection ; and it was not 
until I had taken food and wine, and been some time at rest, that I 
regained them again." — Op. cit., p. IGO. 



142 Of Memory, 



351. The impairment of the Memory in Old Age coDimonly 
shows itself in regard to new impressions ; those of the earlier 
period of life not only remaining in full distinctness, bi t even, 
it would seem, increasing in vividness, from the fact that tho 
Egc is not distracted from attending to them by the continu&i 
influx of impressions produced by passing events. The ex- 
traordinary persistence of early impressions, when the mind 
seems almost to have ceased to register new ones, is in remark- 
able accordance with the law of Nutrition already referred t<^ 
(§ 282). It is when the Brain is growing, that a definite direction 
can be most strongly and persistently given to its structure. 
Thus the habits of thought come to be formed, and those uerve- 
tracks laid-down which (as the Physiologist believes) constitute the 
mechanism of association, by the time that the brain has reached 
it maturity ; and the nutrition of the organ continues to keep up 
the same mechanism in accordance with the demands upon its 
activity, so long as it is being called into use. Further, during the 
entire period of vigorous manhood, the Brain, like the Muscles, may 
be taking-on some additional growth, either as a whole or in special 
parts ; new tissue being developed and kept up by the nutritive 
process, in accordance with the modes of action to which the organ 
is trained. And in this manner a store of "impressions" or "traces" 
is accumulated, which may be brought within the sphere of con- 
sciousness, whenever the right suggesting-strings are touched. But 
as the nutritive activity diminishes, the " waste" becomes more 
active than the renovation ; and it would seem that while (to use a 
eommercia' analogy) the "old-estabhshed houses" keep their 
ground. th2>se later firms whose basis is less secure, are the first to 
crumble away. — the nutritive activity, which yet suffices to main- 
tain the original structure, not being capable of keeping the subse- 
quent additions to it in working order. This earlier degeneration 
of /aier-formed structures is a general fact perfectly familiar to tb« 
Physiologist. 



Effects of Old Age, Disease, and Iiijury. 443 

352. The effects of Disease and Injury on the Memory are so mar- 
Tellous and diverse, that only a very general indication of them can 
be liere given. Cases are very common, in which the form of im- 
painnent just spoken of as characteristic of old age, shows itself to 
a yet greater extent ; the Brain being so disordered by attt cka 
of apoplexy or epilepsy (for example), as to be altogether in- 
capable of registering any new impressions; so that the patient does 
not remember anything that passes from day to day, whilst the 
impressions of events which happened long before the commence- 
ment of his malady, recur with greater vividness than ever. On 
the other hand, the Memory of the long-since-past is sometimes 
entirely destroyed ; whilst that of events which have happened 
subsequently to the malady is but little weakened. The Memory 
of partiadar classes of ideas is frequently destroyed ; that (for 
example) of a certain Language or some other branch of know- 
lenge, or of the patient's domestic or social relations. Thus, a case 
was recorded by Dr. Beattie, of a gentleman, who, after a blow on 
the head, found that he had lost his knowledge of Greek, but did 
not appear to have suffered in any other way. A similar case has 
been recently communicated to the Writer, in which a lad, who lay 
for three days insensible in consequence of a severe blow on the 
head, found himself on recovering to have lost all the Music he had 
learned, though nothing else had been thus " knocked out of him.*' 
Similar losses of acquired Languages have been noted as results of 
Fevers. — Dr. Abercrombie relates a curious case, on the authority 
of an eminent medical friend, in which a surgeon who suffered 
an injury of the head by a fall from his horse, on recovering 
froan insensibility, gave minute directions in regard to his own 
treatment, but was found to have lost all remembrance 
of having a wife and children ; and this did not return until the 
third day. {Op. cit. p. 156). One of the most curious examples of 
this limited loss of Memory occurred in the case of Sir Walter 
Scott, who, having produced one of his best works under tiid 



4-44 ^f Memory. 



pressure of severe illness (§ 124 e), was afterwards found to have 
entirely forgotten what he had thus constructed. 

a. " The book (says James Ballantyne) was not only written but 
published, before Mr. Scott was able to rise from his bed ; and* he 
assured me, that when it was first put into his hands in a compktQ 
shap*., he did not recollect one single incident, character, or conversation 
it contained ! He did not desire me to undojstand, nor did I under- 
stand, that his illness had erased from his memory the original 
incidents of the story, with which he had been acquainted from his 
boyhood. These remained rooted where they had ever been; or, to 
speak more explicitly, he remembered the general facts of the 
existence of the father and mother, of the son and daughter, of the 
rival lovers, of the compulsory marriage, and the attack made by the 
bride upon the hapless bridegroom, with the general catastrophe of 
the whole. All these things he recollected, just as he did before he 
took to his bed ; hut he literally recollected nothing else, — not a single 
character woven by the romancer, not one of the many scenes and 
points of humour, nor anything with which he was himself connectedy 
as the writer of the work." — {Li/e of Walter Scott, chap, xliv.) 

h. A case has been lately mentioned to the Writer by his friend Dr. 
J. R. Eeynolds, in which a Dissenting minister, apparently in perfectly 
sound health, went through an entire pulpit service on a certain 
Sunday morning with the most perfect consistency, — his choice of 
hymns and lessons, and his extempore prayer, being all related to 
the subject of his sermon. On the following Sunday morning, he 
went through the introductory part of the service in precisely the 
same manner, — giving out the same hymns, reading the same 
lessons, and directing his extempore prayer in the same channel. 
He then gave out the same text, and preached the very same sermon 
as he had done on the previous Sunday. When he came down from 
the pulpit, it was found that he had not the smallest remembrance cf 
having gone through precisely the same service on the previous 
Sunday ; and when he was assured of it, he felt considerable uneasi- 
ness lest his lapse of memory should indicate some impending attack 
of brain- disease. None such, however, supervened; and no rationale 
can be given of this curious occurrence, the subject of it not being 
liable to fits of " absence of mind," and not having had his thoughtd 
engrossed at the time by any other special pre-occupation. 



Partial Losses of Memory. 445 

353. Sometimes, again, the Memoiy of persons is iminipa?red, 
whilst that of places remains vigorous ; so that persons ara only 
recognized when seen in the accustomed locaUties. 

This was remarkably shown in the case of a gentleman of eon«' 
eiderable Scientific ability, with whom the Writer had been in close 
intimacy from boyhood, -and who had been accustomed frequently to 
spend an evening at his house. When he had passed the age of 
seventy, but while retaining an unusual degree of bodily vigour, he 
was observed by his friends to be forgetful of circumstances which 
had happened not long previously, and occasionally to show a want 
of comprehension of any unusual words. For example, when the 
Writer happened to speak of the beautiful Comet then visible (1855), 
his friend said, " What do you mean ?", and could only be made to 
understand by being shown the comet from a window. Again, 
though continually at the British Museum, the Eoyal Society, and the 
Geological Society, he would be unable to refer to either by name, 
but would speak of ''that public place." He still continued his 
visits to his friends, and recognized them in their own homes, or in 
other places (as the Scientific Societies) where he had been accus- 
tomed to meet them ; but the Writer, on meeting him at the house of 
one of the oldest friends of both, usually residing in London, but 
then staying at Brighton, found that he was not recognized ; and the 
same want of recognition showed itself when the meeting took place 
out of doors. The want of memory of words then showed itself more 
conspicuously ; one word being substituted for another, sometimes in 
a manner that showed the chain of association to be (as it were) bent 
or distorted, but sometimes without any recognizable relation. Thus 
on calling one day at the Writer's residence, and finding neither him 
nor Mrs. C. at home, he asked his son (then quite a lad) " how his 
wife was," meaning, of course, his mother. But about the same 
time, he told a friend that *' he had had his umbrella washed," the 
meaning of which was gradually discovered to be, that he had had his 
hair cut. This impairment progressively increased to such a degree 
that he could with difficulty make himself understood, though he was 
generally able to recognise the meaning of what was said to him, and 
Would assent if the right words were supplied. His general health con- 
tinued vigorous for some time, but his Memory progressively failed; and 



4-46 Of Memory, 



at last he became obviously unfit to take care of bimself. It waa 
curious that after he had lost the ordinary power of expressing 
himself intelligibly, and oven that of comprehending what was said 
to him, he would swear most tremendously when opposed Id 
anything he tried to do, although he had not been accustomed to 
use such language in his previous life ; and the same has been 
noticed in other cases of a like kind. His life was terminated by 
an attack of apoplexy ; which confirmed the judgment that had 
been previously formed as to the progressive impairment of the 
nutrition of the Brain (§ 355). 

354. The loss of the Memory of Words, exemplified in the preced- 
ing case, is a special disorder which not unfrequently presents itself : 
the patient understanding perfectly well what is said, but not being 
able to reply in any other terms than yes or wo, or by affirmative 
or negative gestures ; not from any paralj^sis of the muscles of 
articulation, but from incapability of expressing the ideas in 
language. To this condition, the term Aphasia has been recently 
applied. Sometimes the memory of words is impaired merely, so 
that the patient mistakes the proper terms. And in some instances 
there is an obvious association, though an irrelevant one, between 
the word used and the word that ought to have been used ; thus 
the case of a Clergyman has been lately mentioned to the Writer, 
who continually confuses "father" and "son,'' "brother" and 
"sister," "gospel" and "epistle," or the like. But sometimes 
there is no recognizable relation, so that tbe patient speaks a most 
curious jargon. Again, the Memory of only a particular class of 
words, such as Nouns or Verbs, may be lost ; or the patient may 
remember the letters of which a word is composed, and may be able 
to spell his wants, though he cannot speak the word' itself; f^skhig 
for bread (for example) by the separate letters b, r, e, a, d. — A very 
curious afiPection of the Memory is that in which the sound of 
spoken words does not convey any idea to the mind ; yet the 
individual may recognize in a written or printed list of words, those 
which have been uttered by the speaker, the sight of them enabling 



Farlial Loss of Meinory : — Aphasia. 447 

him to understand their meaning. Conversely, the sound of the 
word may be remembered, and the idea it conveys fully appreciated; 
but the visual memory of its written form may be altogether lost, 
although the component letters may be recognized. — For this clasB 
of phenomena, in which there is rather a severance of the Associa- 
'dve connections that have been formed between distinct states ot 
consciousness, than an actual annihilation of the impression left by 
any of the latter, the term " Dislocation cf Memory " has been 
proposed by Sir H. Holland ; but, as he justly remarks, "no single 
term can express the various effects of accident, disease, or decay, 
upon this faculty, so strangely partial in their aspect, and so abrupt 
in the changes they undergo, that the attempt to classify them is 
almost as vain as the research into their cause." {Chapters an 
Mental Physiologi/, p. 146.) 

355. It has been recently affirmed that this class of cases affords 
distinct evidence of the dependence of a particular affection of the 
Mind upon a particular disorder of the Brain ; for a large number 
of cases of Aphasia have been collected, in which a degeneration of 
structure was found after death in a certain part of the anterior lobe 
of one side (usually the left) of the Cerebrum. This degeneration 
seems most commonly due to an impairment of Nutrition, con- 
sequent upon deficient supply of blood ; the arterial trunk which 
supplies this part being plugged up either by a fibrinous clot* 
(constituting the condition termed *' embolism "), or by a morbid 
deposit upon its lining membrane ; the latter being the condition 
found in a case recently communicate-d to the Writer by a Medical 
friend, who was a near relative of the patient. — But it would 
Certainly be premature to speak of this relation as an established 

* The fibrinous clot is brought from the Heart, where it is produced as a 
conaoquence of valvular disease ; and the acute observation of Dr. J. Hughlinga 
JFackson, who first pointed out the frequent dependence of this brain-lesion 
upon "embolism" of the middle meningeal artery, has supplied the rationale 
of the frequent occurrence of Apoplexy in connection with Heart-disease, whici 
hftd long since been recognised as a fact of observation, 
S3 



4-4^ Of Meinory. 



fact ; for the association between the Mental state and the Cerebral 
lesion has been shown to be by no means constant * ; and there is, 
moreover, good reason to think that several states essentially 
different have been grouped together under the general designation 
Aphasia. 

356. It is not a little remarkable that even in some of those cases 
IB which the impairment of Memory has resulted from a fever or 
other disease, or from an accident, the lost power should sudden' y 
return. Thus Dr. Rush, of Philadelphia, was acquainted with a 
person of considerable attainments, who, on recovering from a 
fever, was found to have lost all his acquired knowledge. When 
his health was restored, he began to apply himself to the Latin 
Grammar ; and while, one day, making a strong effort to recollect 
a part of his lesson, the whole of his lost impressions suddenly 
returned to his remembrance, so that he found himself at once in 
possession of all his former acquirements. The like sudden restor- 
ation, after an equally sudden loss for a much longer period, is a 
remarkable feature of a very interesting case presently to be 
detailed (§ 360 a). And the Physiologist who accepts the doctrine 
of the original dependence of Memory on a physical registration, 
and the dependence of the reproductive power upon the activity 
of the Blood-circulation, will be disposed to look for the causation 
of such limited and temporary lapses, in m.odifications in the Cir- 
culation produced by local and transient alterations in the calibre 
of the arteries, under the influence of the Vaso-motor sysi-em of 
nerves (§ 113). And it seems a confirmation of this view, that 
in both these cases the recovery took place under Emotional excite- 
ment, which exerts a peculiar power over that portion of (he 
Nervous system. 

357. There is another class of familiar phenomena, which affords 
strong evidence of the dependence of the recording process upon 
Nutritive changes in the brain. Every one is aware that what ia 

* See especially Dr. Batemaii's Treatise on Aphasia, London, 1870. 



i 



Physical Nahcre of Recording Process. 449 

rapidly learned — that is, merely "committed to Memory/' — is very 
commonly forgotten as quickly, " one set of ideas driving out an- 
other." That thorough apprehension of what is learned; on the 
other hand, by which it is made (as it were) part of the Mental 
fabric, is a much slower process. The difference between the two 
is expressed by the colloquial term " cramming," as distinguished 
from " learning ; " the analogy being obvious to the overloading the 
Btomach with a mass of food too gi-eat to be digested and assimi- 
lated within a given time, so that a large part of it pusses out of 
the body without having been applied to any good purpose in 
it. A part of this difference obviously consists in the formation 
Df Mental Associations between the newly acquired knowledge and 
that previously possessed ; so that the new ideas become linked 
on with the old by suggesting chains. Such is especially the 
case when we are applying ourselves to the study of any branch 
of knowledge, with the view of permanently mastering it ; and here 
the element of time is found practically to be very important. 

Thus it is recorded of Lord St. Leonards, that having (as Sir 
Edward Sugden) been asked by Sir T. F. Buxton what was the 
secret of his success, his answer was, — ** I resolved, when bogiiming 
to read Law, to make everything I acquired perfectly my own, and 
never to go to a second thing till I had entirely accomplished the first. 
Many of my competitors read as much in a day as I read in a week ; 
but at the end of twelve months, my knowledge was as fresh as on the 
day it was acquired, whilst theirs had glided away from their recol- 
lection." — [Memoirs of Sir T. F. Buxton, ^hap. xxiv.) 

358. In this Assimilating process it is obvious that the new 
knowledge is (as it were) turned over and over in the Mind, and 
viewed in all its aspects ; so that by coming to be not merely 
ftn addition to the old, but to interpenetrate it, the old can scarcely 
be brought into the " sphere of consciousness " without bringi no 
the new with it. And from the considerations already adduced, 
it seems almost beyond doubt that the formation of this Asso- 



4-50 Of Memory. 



ciative nexm expresses itself in the Physical structure of the Brain, 
so as to create a mechanism whereby it is perpetuated so long 
as the Nutrition of the organ is normally maintained. 

359. Still more direct and cogent evidence of the dependence of 
Memory upon a registering process that consists in some Nutritive 
modification of the Brain-tissue, is afforded by the fact well known 
to Medical men, that when a person has sustained a severe injury 
to the head which has rendered him temporarily insensible, he 
generally finds himself, on recovering from his insensibility, unable 
to retrace the events which had immediately preceded, though his 
remembrance of what had gone before is not at all impaired. 

The following example of this frequent occurrence has been com- 
municated to the Writer by his friend the Eev. S. Hansard, whose 
remarkable reminiscence of a very early impression has been already 
noticed (§ 339 &). He was driving his wife and child in a phaeton, when 
the horse took fright and ran away ; and all attempts to pull him in 
being unsuccessful, the phaeton was at last violently dashed against 
a wall, and Mr. H. was thrown out, sustaining a severe concussion 
of the brain. On recovering, he found that he had forgotten the 
immediate antecedents of the accident ; the last thing he remembered 
being that he had met an acquaintance on the road about two 
miles from the scene of it. Of the efforts he had made, and the terror 
of his wife and child, he has not, to this day, any recollection 
whatever. 

360. The same indication that time is needed for the effectual 
performance of the registration, may be drawn from another 
class of phenomena familiar to all. In what we call " learning by 
lieart," — which should be rather called learning by Sense, instead 
of by Mind, — we try to imprint on our memory a certain sequence 
of words, numbers, musical notes, or the like ; the reproduction of 
these being mainly dependent upon the association of each item 
with that which follows it, so that the utterance of the former, or 
the picture of it in the mind's eye, suggests the next. We see 
this plainly enough, when children are set to learn a piece of 



Physical Nature of Recording Process, 451 

poetry of which their Minds do not take-in the meaning ; for the 
rhythm affords here a great help to the suggestive action ; and 
nothing is more common than to hear words or clauses — transferred, 
perhaps, from some other part of the poem — substituted for the 
liglit ones, though not only inappropriate, but absolutely absurd, 
in the lines as uttered. So, again, if the child is at fault, he does 
not think of the meaning of the sentence, and of what is wanted 
to complete it, but "tries back" over the preceding words, that 
th3ir sound may suggest that of the word he has forgotten. This 
form of Memory sometimes endures through life, even in in- 
dividuals of great acquirements ; and w^here it exists in unusual 
strength, it seems rather to impede than to aid the formation of 
that nexus of associations, w^hich makes the acquired knowledge a 
part of the Mind itself. 

Thus it is stated by Dr. Abercrombie, that Dr. Leyden, who was 
distinguished for his extraordinary power of learning languages, 
could repeat correctly a long Act of Parliament, or any similar 
document, after having once read it. Being congratulated by a 
friend on his remarkable gift, he replied that instead of being an 
advantage, it was often a source of great inconvenience to him. 
This he explained by saying that when he wished to recollect a 
particular point in anything which he had read, he could only do 
it by repeating to himself the whole from the commencement, till he 
had reached the point he wished to recall. — Op. cit., p. 101. 

Here the "recording process" would seem to be very little 
higher in character than that by which the brain of the German 
servant-maid became impressed by the sounds of the Hebrew 
sentences recited by her master (§ 344 d). For it must have been 
the sequence of words, rather than the relations of the ideas 
conveyed by them, that constituted the chain of association. And 
we seerji able to trace the Physiological working of this process, in 
the fact known to every school-boy wiio has to commit to memory 
fifty lines of Virgil, that if he can " say them to himself," eveu 



j| 5 2 Of Memory, 



Blowly and bunglingly, just before going to sleep, he will be able to 
recite them much more fluently in the morning. For we have here 
an obvious indication that the renovation of the brain-subslance 
which takes place during sleep, going on without interruption by 
new impressions on the Sensorium, gives time for the fixaticm ot 
the last impressions by nutritive change. — We have, moreover, a 
remarkable converse phenomenon in the rapid fading-away of a 
Dream, which, at the moment of waking, we can reproduce with 
extraordinaiy vividness ; for the "trace " left by its details xs 
soon obliterated by the new and stronger impressions made on our 
waking consciousness : so that, a few hours afterwards, we are 
often unable to revive more than the general outline of the dream, 
and perhaps not even that, unless we have told it to another 
when it was fresh in our minds, of which act a " trace " would 
be left. 

3fil. There are two classes of persons who are professionally 
called upon for great temporary exercises of Memory, viz.. Dramatic 
performers and Barristers. An Actor, when about to perform a new 
" part," not only commits it to memory, but " studies " it, so as to 
make it part of himself ; and all really great actors identify them- 
selves for the time with the characters they are performing (§ 463). 
When a "part" has once been thoroughly mastered, the per- 
former is usually able to go through it, even after a long interval, 
with very little previous preparation. But an Actor is sometimes 
called upon to take a new " part " at a very short notice ; he then 
simply learns it by heart, and speedily forgets it. 

A case of this kind is cited by Dr. Abercrombie, as having been 
the experience of a distinguished Actor, on being called on to 
prepare himself in a long and difiBcult part, at a few hours' notice, 
in consequence of the illness of another performer. He acquired it 
in a very short time, and went through it with perfect accuracy; 
but forgot it to such a degree, immediately after the performance, 
that although he performed the character for several days in succes* 



Limitation of Memory. 453 

sion, he was obliged every day to prepare it anew, not haying time 
to go through the process of " studying " it. When questioned respect- 
ing the mental process which he employed the first time he performed 
the part, he said that he entirely lost sight of the audience, and 
Beemed to have nothing before him but the pages of the book from 
which he had learned it ; and that, if anything had occurred to 
interrupt this illusion, he should have instantly stopped. — Oi^. cit., 
p. 103. 

362. In the case of Barristers, who are called upon to " get up '* 
the " briefs " which are supplied to them, to master the facts, to 
apply to them the principles of Law, and to present them in the 
Court in the form which they deem most advantageous to the 
cause they have undertaken to plead, the very highest faculties 
of Mind are called into active exercise : but in consequence, it would 
seem, of the want of previous connection with the case (of which 
they know nothing but what is set down in their brief), and of 
the complete cessation of that connection so soon as the decision has 
been given, they very commonly " forget all about it," by the time 
that they have transferred their attention to their next brief. 

A curious case of this kind was mentioned to the Writer a few 
years ago by an eminent Barrister (since elevated to the Judicial 
Bench), whose great scientific attainments led to his being frequently 
employed in Patent-cases. A heavy case of this kind being placed 
in his hands, he was reminded of having been engaged by the 
same parties in the same case, when it had been first brought to 
trial about a year previously. He had not the slightest remem- 
brance of its having ever been before him ; none of the particulars 
of it seemed familiar to him ; and he was only convinced that he 
really had taken part in the previous trial, by finding the record of 
his engagement in his fee-book. Even when he came to "get up" 
the case again, no remembrance of his former attention to it came 
within his *' sphere of consciousness." — (See also § 343 &). 

363. It seems, then, to admit of question, whether everything 
that passes through our Minds thus leaves its impression on their 



4-54 Of Memory, 

material instrument ; and whether a somewhat too extensive 
generalization has not been erected on a rather limited basis. For 
the doctrine of the indelibility of Memory rests on the spontaneous 
revival, under circumstances indicative of some change in the 
physical condition of the Brain, of the long dormant "traces" left 
by such former impressions as are referable to one or other of the 
three following categories: — (1) States of Consciousness as to 
places, persons, languages, <fec., which are habitual in early 
life, and which are, therefore, likely to have directed the 
growth of the Brain ; ( 2 ) Modes of Thought in which the forma- 
tion of Associations largely participates, and which are likely to 
have modified the course of its maintenance by Nutrition after the 
attainment of maturity ; or (3) Single experiexices of peculiar 
force and vividness, such as are likely to have left very decided 
" traces," although the circumstances of their formation were so 
unusual as to keep them out of ordinary Associational remem- 
brance. Thus, in the remarkable case mentioned in § 346, it 
would seem that all the Mind the patient then had must have 
been concentrated upon the impressions made upon his Sensorium, 
which were thus indelibly branded, as it were, upon hia 
Organism; but that these "traces," being soon covered up by 
those resulting from the new experiences of restored activity, 
remained outside the " sphere of consciousness," until revived 
by a Physical change, which reproduced the images of the objects 
tliat had left them. 

364. This Reproduction, however, is not all that constitutes 
Memory ; for there must be, in addition, a recognition of the 
reproduced state of Consciousness as one which has been formerly 
experienced; and this involves a distinct Mental state, which has 
been termed the " consciousness of agreement." Without this 
recognition, we should live in the present alone j for the repro- 
duction of past states of Consciousness would affect us only like 
the succession of fantasies presented to us in the play of the 



Consciousness of Personal Identity. 455 

[inagiimtion. We should only be conscious of them as 'present to ua 
at the time of their recurrence, and should not in any way connect 
them with the past. Hence this Consciousness of Agreement be- 
tween our present and our past Mental experiences, constitutes the 
basis of our feeling of 'personal identity ; for, if it were entirely 
extinguished, there would be nothing to carry on that feeling oi 
identity from one moment to another. I am satisfied that I am 
the person to whom such and such experiences happened yesterday 
or a month, or a year, or twenty years ago ; because I am not only 
conscious at this moment of the ideas which represent those 
experiences, but because I recognize them as the revived represen- 
tations of my past experiences. But I may be told by others that 
things have happened to me in the past, of which I can call up no 
remembrance whatever, even when they mention circumstances 
likely to revive their traces by Association. And in this case, I 
cannot recognize my own identity with the subject of these 
experiences, save as I do so indirectly by reliance on the testimony 
of those who relate them. Sometimes, indeed, we come so com- 
pletely to realize such forgotten experiences, by repeatedly fncturing 
them to ourselves, that the ideas of them attain a force and vivid- 
ness which equcils or even exceeds that which the actual memory 
of them would aiford. In like manner, when the Imagination 
has been exercised in a sustained and determinate manner, — as in 
the composition of a work of fiction, — its ideal creations m^^^y be 
reproduced with the force of actual experiences ; and the sense of 
personal identity may be projected backwards (so to speak) into 
the characters which the Author has " evolved out of the depths of 
his own consciousness," — as Dickens states to have been continually 
the case with himself And something of the same kind has 
happened to most persons, however unimaginative they may be, in 
the reproduction of ideas which have previously only passed 
through the mind in Dreams ; for almost every one has h^d 
occasion, at some time or other, to say " Did this really happen to 



45 6 Of Memory, 



me, or did I dream it % " — the past mental experience having been 
as complete in the one case as in the other. 

a. A remarkable case of this kind has lately been related to tho 
"W' liter. — A Lady of advanced age, who retains a remarkable degree of 
gtioeral Mental activity, continually dreams about passing events, 
aiid seems entirely unable to distinguish between her dreaming and 
her "waking experiences, narrating the former with implicit belief in 
them, and giving directions based upon them, until corrected. 
Though at first impatient of such corrections, she now readily accepts 
them, having become quite aware of her infirmity. 

365. Though we are accustomed to speak of Memory as if it 
consisted in an exact reproduction of past states of Consciousness, 
yet experience is continually showing us that this reproduction is 
very often inexact, through the modification which the " trace " 
has undergone in the interval. Sometimes the trace has been 
partially obliterated ; and what remains may serve to give a 
very erroneous (because imperfect) view of the occurrence. And 
where it is one in which our own Feelings are interested, we 
are extremely apt to lose sight of what goes against them, so 
that the representation given by Memory is altogether one- 
sided. This is continually demonstrated by the entire dis- 
similarity of the accounts of the same occurrence or conversa- 
tion, which shall be given by two or more parties concerned in 
it, even when the matter is fresh in their minds, and they are 
honestly desirous of telling the truth. And this diversity will 
usually become still more pronounced with the lapse of time : 
tlie trace becoming gradually but unconsciously modified by 
the habitual course of thought and feehng ; so that when it 
is so acted on after a lengthened interval as to bring up a 
reminiscence of the original occurrence, that reminiscence really 
represents, not the actual occurrence, but the modified trace of 
it. And this is the source of an enormous number of "fallacies 
of testimony," which recent experiences of Mesmerism and 



Fallacies of Memory, 457 

Spiritualism have brought into strong light. For the very pre- 
valent disposition to believe in the marvellous is found so to 
change the form of the original record, without the least intention 
of doing so, that the most truthful narrator may come to believe 
implicitly in a version of an occurrence, which differs in some most 
essential point from the facts of the case as known to himself (or 
herself) at the time. — The following example of this change is 
given by Miss Cobbe, who has specially directed attention to these 
*' Fallacies of Memory : — 

"It happened once to the Writer to hear a most scrupulously 
conscientious friend narrate an incident of Table-turning, to which 
she appended an assurance that the table rapped when nobody waa 
within a yard of it. The writer being confounded by this latter 
fact, the lady, though fully satisfied of the accuracy of her statement, 
promised to look at the note she had made ten years previously of the 
transaction. The note was examined, and was found to contain the 
distinct statement that the table rapped when the hands of six 
persons rested on it ! The lady's memory as to all other points 
proved to be strictly correct ; and in this point she had erred in entire 
good faith." — [Hours of Work and Play, p. 100.) 

366. The old story of " the three black crows " is, in fact, con- 
tinually being repeated ; so that incidents in which there is really 
nothing wonderful, come to be magnified into most surprising and 
perplexing phenomena. If some sagacious inquirer, however, would 
perseveringly take up the clue, and carry a searching investigation 
backwards to the fons et origo of every such narrative, he would 
probably succeed as well as Dr. Noble did in the following case^ 
wliich he has kindly communicated to the Writer for publication : — • 

"It was, I think, in 1845, that Mesmerism was exciting much 
interest in Manchester, as in many other parts of the countiy ; and 
a great deal was made, by enthusiastic advocates, of Miss Martineau'a 
adhesion to the cause. This lady had a maid, whom, in her record 
)f mesmeric experiences, she called J. This person was said to be a 
Wonderful clairvoyant ; and besides what was published of her doings. 



4-5^ Of Memory. 



anauthenticated representations of the same became the frequent topic 
in discussions on the subject. It was stated to me again and again, 
as to a sceptic, that Miss Martineau's J. could converse, when in her 
mesmeric state, in languages that she had never learnt, and of which 
she knew nothing when in her ordinary condition. Of course, I 
could not admit the verity of such an astonishing fact upon mere 
hearsay. But it was confidently averred that Lord Morpeth (the late 
Earl of Carlisle] had tested J. as to this power, and had found it real. 
It happened about this time, soon after I had heard these things, that 
being in Liverpool I met at dinner a brother-in-law of Miss Marti- 
neau ; and him I questioned as to what he knew of the thaumaturgio 
doings of which I had heard. He told me that what I had heard was 
not quite accurate ; but that the fact was, J. had replied in the verna- 
cular to questions proposed by Lord Morpeth in the foreign tongue. 
This statement, I thought, though wonderful enough, diminished 
the marvellous character of the incident materially ; for I reasoned 
that, probably, the nature of the queries might approximately be 
inferred from the intonation used in putting them. However, a few 
weeks later, Lord Morpeth had occasion to come to Manchester, pre- 
siding at an Athenaeum Soiree ; and the late Mr. Braid, during this 
visit, invited Lord Morpeth to come and witness his own particular 
experiments, suggestive of the true interpretation to be affixed to 
Mesmeric phenomena, so far as they were real. I was present during 
the exhibition, whereat Lord Morpeth assisted, actively and with great 
interest. I remembered the story about J., and took advantage of 
the opportunity to ask his Lordship what really happened. Lord 
Morpeth said, " No, it was not so ; I certainly spoke to J. in a foreign 
language, and, by an unmeaning articulation of sound, she imitated 
my speech after a fashion ; that was all ! " And thus disappeared 
the last shred of this marvel. — I have told this anecdote so frequently 
since the period in question, that I am absolutely sure of the literal 
accurac}'- of my recollection in this matter." 

367. This modification of the " traces " left by the original evenig 
<Dr narrations, in accordance with the preconceptions of those through 
whom they are successively transmitted, has doubtless been, in all 
Ages, a fertile source of those Religious Myths, which are accepted 
by some as representations of actual events, and repudiated by 



Double Conscio2iS7iess, 459 

otheiTS as mendacious inventions ; whilst others again regard them, 
with more justice, as having grown up by a process of gradual 
accretion and modification, and as representing the Ideas current 
among the disciples of any particular Creed, between the time of the 
occurrences on which they are based, and that of their full develop- 
ment as a body of doctrine. Modern criticism has done no greater 
service, than in showing that disbelief in the Myths themselves 
may be perfectly consistent with a full recognition of the honesty 
and good intentions of those with whom they originated, their 
memory alone being in fault. 

368. In that remarkable abnormality known as Double Conscious-' 
ness (§ 489), there is a break, more or less complete, between the 
two states, A and B, as regards the conscious Memory of the occur- 
rences of each ; for the experiences of state A constitute one pliase 
of existence, and the experiences of state B an -entirely distinct 
phase. Still, although the memory of actual occurrences may 
be wanting, there is often recognizable a persistence of habitual 
modes of thought or feeling, such as in their aggregate constitute 
the Character. Thus in a very interesting case elsewhere cited 
(§448 a) as having been shown to the Writer by Mr. Braid, the 
subject of it, who was a firm teetotaller, having been repeatedly 
assured by Mr. Braid that he was drunk, and his own feelings of 
unsteadiness (induced by Muscular suggestion) falling in with this 
assurance, it was most amusing to witness the conflict in his mind 
between the idea thus forced into it, and the idea derived from liia 
habitual practice that he " could not have had any gin and water." 
And so in other cases (§§ 453, 490) in which considerable 
excitement of feeling had been induced during the abnormal 
Btftte, the " trace " of it obviously lasted into the ordinary state, 
without any ideational remembrance, either of the excitement 
iisolf, or of the occurrences that had called it forth. — Hence, then, 
we may conclude, that if it were possible completely to obliterate 
all memory of the past, so that the conscious life of the individual 



4-60 Of Memory, 

would begin altogether de novo, there would be this degree of 
connection between the new and the old life, — that the modes 
of thought and feeling established by Habit would tend to 
reproduce themselves ; in so far, that is, as the similarity of external 
conditions should tend to call them into corresponding actioiL 
Considering, however, the extraordinary complexity of the associa- 
tions which make up that record of past experiences whereon 
nearly all our Mental operations are based, it could not be expected 
that the new experiences should act on the mechanism altogether in 
the same manner as they would do if the old could be recalled. 
And it will suffice to confirm the view here advocated, if it can be 
shown that there are definite indications of such action. Such, the 
Writer believes, may be clearly recognized in the following case ; 
which is here cited at length as probably being the most remark- 
able instance of the tem'porary extinction of all memory of the past, 
without the stupor which would prevent the reception of new im- 
pressions, that has ever been recorded by an intelligent observer.* 

a. The subject of this case was a young woman of robust constitution 
and good health, who accidentally fell into a river and was nearly 
drowned. She remained insensible for six hours after the immersion ; 
but recovered so far as to be able to give some account of the accident 
and of her subsequent feelings, though she continued far from well. 
Ten days subsequently, however, she was seized with a fit of 
complete stupor, which lasted for four hours ; at the end of which time 
she opened her eyes, but did not seem to recognize any of her friends 
around her : and she appeared to be utterly deprived of the senses of 
hearing, taste, and smell, as well as of the power of speech. Her 
Mental faculties seemed to be entirely suspended ; her only medium 
of communication with the external world being through the senses 
of Sight and Touch, neither of which appeared to arouse ideas in her 
mind, though respondent movements of various kinds were excited 
through them. Her vision at short distances was quick ; and so great 
was the exaltation of the general sensibility upon the surface of the 

* See Mr. Dunn's Narrative in the Lancet, November 15 and 29, 1845. 



Temporary Stcspension of Memory. 461 

body, that the slightest touch would startle her ; still, unless «he 
was touched, or an object or a person was so placed that she could not 
help seeing the one or the other, she appeared to be quite lost to 
everything that was passing around her. She had no notion that she 
was at home, not the least knowledge of anything about her ; she 
did not even know her own mother, who attended upon her with the 
most unwearied assiduity and kindness. Wherever she was placed, 

dhere she remained during the day Her appetite was 

good ; but having neither taste nor smell, she ate alike indifferently 
whatever she was fed with, and took nauseous medicines as readily as 
delicious viands. All the automatic movements unconnected with 
sensation, of which the Spinal Cord is the instrument, seemed to go 
on without interference ; as did also those dependent upon the sensa- 
tions of sight and touch ; whilst the functions of the other Sensory 
ganglia, together with those of the Cerebral hemispheres, appeared 
to be in complete abeyance. The analysis of the facts stated 
regarding her ingestion of food seems to make this clear. She 
swallowed food when it was put into her mouth ; this was a purely 
automatic action, the reception by the lips being excited by tactile 
sensation, whilst the act of deglutition, when the food has been 
carried within reach of the pharyngeal muscles, is excited without 
the necessary concurrence of sensation. But she made no spontaneous 
effort to feed herself with the spoon, showing that she had not even 
that simple idea of helping herself, which infants so early acquire ; 
though after her mother had conveyed the spoon a few times to her 
mouth, so as to renew the association between the muscular action 
and the sensorial stimulus, the patient continued the operation. It 
appears, however, to have been necessary to repeat this lesson on 
every occasion ; showing the complete absence of memory for any 
idea, even one so simple and so immediately connected with the 
supply of the bodily wants. The difference between an instinct and 
a desire ov propensity (§§ 57, 261) is here most strikingly manifested. 
This patient had an instinctive tendency to ingest food, as is shown by 
her performance of the actions already alluded to ; but these actions 
required the stimulus of the present sensation, and do not seem to 
have been connected with any notion of the character of the object 
' food ; at any rate, there was no manifestation of the existence of 
any such notion or idea, for she displayed no desire for food or drink 






4-62 Of Memory. 



in the absence of the objects, even when she must have been con- 
scious of the uneasy sensations of hunger and thirst. — The very 
limited nature of her faculties, and the automatic life she was leading, 
appear further evident from the following particulars. One of her 
first acts on recovering from the fit, had been to busy herself in 
picking the bed-clothes ; and as soon as she was able to sit up and be 
dressed, she continued the habit by incessantly picking some portion 
of her dress. She seemed to want an occupation for her fingers, and 
accordingly part of an old straw bonnet was given to her, which she 
pulled into pieces of great minuteness : she was afterwards bounti- 
fully supplied with roses; she picked off the leaves, and then tore 
them into the smallest particles imaginable. A few days subsequently, 
she began forming upon the table, out of these minute particles, rude 
figures of roses and other common garden-flowers ; she had never 
received any instructions in drawing. Eoses not being so plentiful 
in London, waste paper and a pair of scissors were put into her 
hands ; and for some days she found an occupation in cutting the 
paper into shreds ; after a time these cuttings assumed rude 
figures and shapes, and more particularly the shapes used in 
patchwork. At length she was supplied with proper materials 
for patchwork ; and after some initiatory instruction, she took 
to her needle and to this employment in good earnest. She now 
laboured incessantly at patchwork from morning till night, and on 
Sundays and week-days, for she knew no difference of days ; nor 
could she be made to comprehend the difference. She had no remem- 
brance from day to day of what she had been doing on the previous 
day, and so every morning commenced de novo. Whatever she 
began, that she continued to work at while daylight lasted ; mani- 
festing no uneasiness for anything to eat or drink, taking not the 
slightest heed of anything which was going on around her, but 
intent only on her patchwork. She gradually began, like a child, to 
register ideas and acquire experience. This was first shown la 
connexion with her manual occupation. From patchwork, after 
having exhausted all the materials within her reach, she was led to 
the higher art of worsted-work, by which her attention was soon 
engrossed as constantly as it had before been by her humbler employ- 
ment. She was delighted with the colours and the flowers upon the 
patterns that were brought to her, and seemed to derive special 



Temporary Suspeiision of Memory, 463 

enjoyment from the harmony of colours ; nor did she conceal her 
want of respect towards any specimen of work that was placed 
before her, but immediately threw it aside if the arrangement dis- 
pleased her. She still had no recollection from day to day of what 
Bhe had done, and every morning began something new, unless her 
usEiiished work was placed before her; and after imitating the 
patterns of others, she began devising some of her own. 

The first ideas derived from her former experience, that seemed ta 
be awakened within her, were connected with two subjects which had 
naturally made a strong impression upon her ; namely, her fall into 
the river and a love-afi'air. It will be obvious that her pleasure in 
the symmetrical arrangement of patterns, the harmony of colours, 
&c., was at first simply sensorial ; but ghe gradually took an interesv 
in looking at pictures or prints, more especially of flowers, trees, and 
animals. When, however, she was shown a landscape in which there 
was a river, or the view of a troubled sea, she became intensely 
excited and violently agitated ; and one of her fits of spasmodic 
rigidity and insensibility immediately followed. If the picture were 
removed before the paroxysm had subsided, she manifested no recol- 
lection of what had taken place ; but so great was her feeling ojt 
dread or fright associated with water, that the mere sight of it in 
motion, its mere running from one vessel to another, made hei 
shudder and tremble ; and in the act of washing her hands, they were, 
merely placed in water. From this it may be inferred that simple 
ideas were now being formed ; for whilst the actual sight or contact 
of moving water excited them by the direct Sensorial channel, the 
sight of a picture containing a river or water in movement could only 
do so by giving rise to the notion of water. — From an early stage oi 
her illness, she had derived obvious pleasure from the proximity of a 
young man to whom she had been attached ; he was evidently an 
object of interest when nothing else would rouse her ; and nothing 
snemed to give her so m.uch pleasure as his presence. He came regu- 
larly every evening to see her, and she as regularly looked for his 
coming. At a time when she did not remember from one hour to 
another what she was doing, she would look anxiously for the open- 
ing of the door about the time he was accustomed to pay her a visit ; 
and if he came not, she was fidgetty and fretful throughout the 
evening. V7hen by her removal into the country she lost sight of 

34 



4.64 Of Memory. 



him for some time, she became unhappy and irritable, manifested no 
pleasure in anything, and suffered very frequently from fits of. 
spasmodic rigidity and insensibility. When, on the other hand, he 
remained constantly near her, she improved in bodily health, eaily 
associations were gradually awakened, and her Intellectual poweii 
and memory of words progressively returned. — We here see very 
clearly the composite nature of the Emotion of Affection. At first» 
there was simple pleasure in the presence of her lover, excited by 
the gratification which the impress of former associations had con- 
nected with the sensation. Afterwards, however, it was evident that 
the pleasure became connected with the idea; she thought of him 
when absent, expected his return (even showing a power of measuring 
time, when she had no memory for anything else), and manifested 
discomfort if he did not make his appearance. Here we see the true 
Emotion^ namely, the association of pleasure with the idea ; and the 
manner in which the desire would spring out of it. The desire, in 
her then condition, would be inoperative in causing voluntary move- 
ment for its gratification ; simply because there was no Intellect for 
it to act upon. 

Her Mental powers, however, were gradually returning. She took 
greater heed of the objects by which she was surrounded ; and on one 
occasion, seeing her mother in a state of excessive agitation and 
grief, she became excited herself, and in the emotional excitement of 
the moment suddenly ejaculated, with some hesitation, *' What's the 
matter ? " Erom this time she began to articulate a few words ; but 
she neither called persons nor things by their right names. The 
pronoun " this " was her favourite word ; and it was applied alike to 
every individual object, animate and inanimate. The first objects 
which she called by their right names were wild flowers, for which 
she had shown quite a passion when a child ; and it is remarkable, 
that her interest in these and her recollection of their names should 
have manifested itself, at a time when she exhibited not the least 
recollection of the "old familiar friends and places" of her child- 
hood. As her Intellect gradually expanded, and her ideas became 
more numerous and definite, they manifested themselves chiefly in 
the form of emotions ; that is, the chief indications of them were 
through, the signs of Emotional excitement. These last were fre- 
quently exhibited in the attacks of insensibility and spasmodic 



TempoT-ary Stcspeiision of Memory, 465 

rigidity, which came on at the slightest alarm. It is worth remarking 
that similar attacks, throughout this period, were apt to recur 
three or four times a day, when her eyes had been long directed 
intently upon her work ; which affords another proof how closely the 
Emotional cause of them must have been akin to the influence of 
Sensory impressions, the effects of the two being precisely the same. 

The mode of recovery of this patient was quite as remarkable aa 
anything in her history. Her health and bodily strength seemed 
completely re-established, her vocabulary was being extended, and 
her mental capacity was improving; when she became aware that 
her lover was paying attention to another woman. This idea imme- 
diately and very naturally excited the Emotion of jealousy ; which, 
if we analyse it, will appear to be nothing else than a painful feeling 
connected with the idea of the faithlessness of the object beloved. On 
one occasion this feeling was so strongly excited, that she fell down 
in a fit of insensibility, which resembled her first attack in duration 
and severity. This, however, proved sanatory. When the insensibi- 
lity passed off, she was no longer spell-bound. The veil of oblivion 
was withdrawn ; and, as if awakening from a sleep of twelve months' 
duration, she found herself surrounded by her grandfather, grand- 
mother, and their familiar friends and acquaintances, in the old house 
at Shoreham. /SAe awoke in the possession of her natural faculties and 
former knowledge; hut without the slightest remembrance of anything 
which had taken place in the year's interval, from the invasion of the 
first fit up to the present time. She spoke, but she heard not ; she was 
still deaf, but being able to read and write as formerly, she was no 
longer cut off from communication with others. From this time she 
rapidly improved, but for some time continued deaf. She soon per- 
fectly understood by the motion of the lips what her mother said ; 
they conversed with facility and quickness together, but she did not 
understand the language of the lips of a stranger. She was completely 
unaware of the change in her lover's affections, which had taken 
place in her state of " second consciousness;" and a painful explana- 
tion was necessary. This, however, she bore very well ; and she haa 
iiuce recovered her previous bodily and mental health. 

369. It is clear from what has preceded, that Memory is essentialij 
an automatic form of Mental activity. By far the larger part of oui 



4.66 Of Memory. 



Psychical operations depend on the mechanism by which past 
Btates of consciousness spontaneously reproduce themselves : and 
while the Metaphysician accounts for this reproduction on the 
principle of " association of ideas," the Physiologist holds', 
that in the formation of such associations, certain modifica- 
tions took place in the organization of the Brain, which determine 
its mode of responding to subsequent suggestions ; so that, under 
the stimulus of new impressions either from without or from within, 
the long-dormant " traces " of former mental states are caused to 
reproduce themselves as Ideas and Feelings. — But while this 
faculty is essentially automatic, it is one which is peculiarly capable 
of being guided and disciplined by the Will ; and as there is 
no part of our Mental action, in which what the Will can 
and what it cannot do is more clearly distinguishable, it will be 
worth while to dwell somewhat particularly on the subject. 

370. The act of Recollection is the Volitional exercise of the Auto- 
matic power of " reproduction," which we put in practice whenever 
we try to remember something that does not spontaneously present 
itself when wanted ; our knowledge of what is wanted, which 
directs the action of the Will (§ 324), extending only to the con- 
viction that we have once known it, and that the desiderated Idea 
would be found hid away somewhere in the recesses of our minds, if 
we could only tell in what direction to look for it. This conviction 
may be derived from the very circumstances of the case : — as when 
we meet a man whose face is perfectly familiar to us, and with 
whom we feel sure that we have been in personal communication 
on some previous occasion, but whose name we forget ; or when, in 
speaking a foreign language, the word or phrase that would express 
our thought does not occur to us, although we know that we mud 
have not only have once learned it, but also retained it in our 
minds. Or it may be impressed on us by the assurance of others 
that a certain communication has been made to us, of which w* 
have entirely lost the remembrance. 



Nature of Volitional Recollection. 467 

371. In the first place, it may be positively affirmed that we 
cannot call up any Idea by a direct exertion of Volition ; for it ia 
us necessary a condition of the operation of the Will on the BraiOj 
as it is of its action on the Muscles, that we should have before 
our consciousness the idea of what is willed ; and if we have got 
this already, it cannot be what we want. How, then, do we "call 
to mind " an idea, of which all that we know is, that it represents 
a something which has at some former time been an object of 
consciousness 1 

372. The process really consists in the fixation of the Attention 
upon one or more of the ideas already 2:)Tesent to the mind, which may 
directly recall, by suggestion, that which is desiderated ; the very 
act of thus attending to a particular idea serving not only to 
intensify the idea itself, but also to strengthen the associations by 
which it is connected with others. There are certain ideas so 
familiar to us, that they seem necessarily to recur upon the 
slightest prompting of suggestion ; yet even with regard to these, 
the volitional Recollection at any particular time involves the 
process just described. Thus if a man be asked his own name, he 
usually finds no difficulty in giving the proper answer ; because it 
only requires that his attention should be directed to the idea 
involved in the words " my name," to suggest the words of which 
that name may consist. But if the individual should be in that 
state of " absence of mind," which really consists in the fixation of 
the attention upon some internal train of thought (§ 445), he may 
not be able on a sudden to transfer his attention to the new idea 
that is forced upon his consciousness ah externo ; and may thus 
hesitate and bungle, before he is able to answer the question with 
powitiveness. — So, again, it sometimes happens in old age, that 
meu fail to recollect their own names, or the names of persons 
aiost familiar to them, in consequence of the weakening of the 
bond of direct association ; and they then only recall it by the 
operation to be presently described. And in those abnormal statet 



468 Of Memory. 



of mind, in which the power of Volitionallj directing the current 
of thought is for a time suspended, the individual cannot recall 
either his own name or any other most familiar idea, if "poii- 
Bessed" with the conviction that such recollection is impossible 
(§ 462). 

373. But supposing that — the Mind being in full possession of its 
ordinary powers — the desiderated idea does not at once 
recur suggestively, on the direction of the attention to some idea 
already present to our consciousness : we then apply the same 
process to other ideas which successively come before us, selecting 
those which we recognize as most likely to suggest that which we 
require, and following out one train of thought after another, in the 
directions which we deem most suitable ; until we either succeed 
in finding the idea of which we are in search, or give-up the pursuit 
as hopeless* Thus a man who is making up his accounts, and finds 
that he has expended a sum in a mode which he cannot recollect, sets 
himself to consider what business he has done, where he has recently- 
been, what shops he may have entered, and so on. Or when a 
man meets another whom he recognizes as an acquaintance without 
remembering his name, he runs over a number of names (one being 
suggested by another, when the attention is directed to them), in 
hopes that some one of these may prove to be that which will 
furnish the clue to the one he has forgotten ; or he thinks of the 
place in which he may have previously seen him, this being recalled 
by fixing the attention on the association suggested by the sight of 
his face and figure, or by the sound of his voice, or by his 
personality altogether ; or he endeavours to retrace the time which 
has elapsed since he last met with him, the persons amongst whom 
he then was, or the actions in which he was engaged ; that some 
one or other of these various associations may suggest the 
desiderated name. Or, when a man tries to retrace some "train of 
thought" which has formerly passed through his mind, but of 
which he only remembers that the subject of it had been ^before 



Culhtre of the Memory. 469 

him, he may often recover it by following it out (as it were) from 
the original starting-point ; when the whole, with its conclusioiu 
will often flash into the mind at once. 

Thus, the Writer well recollects that, when going to register the 
birth of one of his own children, he found, when approaching the Office, 
that he had entirely forgotten the intended name, which had been 
' decided on after a considerable amount of domestic discussion; and only 
brought it to his remembrance by "trying back" over the reasons 
which had determined the one finally selected. 

374. Nothing can more clearly prove the essentially automatic 
nature of the process, than the fact familiar to every one, that when 
we have been striving by all the means at our command to recover a 
lost idea — as, for example, to remember where we have put aw^ay 
an important paper — and have abandoned the effort as hopeless, 
it " comes into our heads" some time afterwards, under circum- 
Btances which seem to justify the conclusion that we have started, by 
our volitional effort, a train of Cerebral mechanism, which 
unconsciously evolves a result that is then brought to our con- 
sciousness by being transmitted to the Sensorium. This subject* 
however, will be better discussed hereafter, in connection with 
other phenomena of "Unconscious Cerebration" (§§ 419 — 423). 

■ — The automatic action of Memory, as contrasted with its 
volitional exercise, is further shown by its activity in the states of 
Dreaming, Somnambulism, Intoxication, Delirium, and Insanity ; 
in which the directing power of the Will is suspended, while 
the Automatic power of the Brain is in full play. (See Chaps. 
XV.— XVII.) 

375. But while the faculty of Memory immediately depends 
\i])on a raeciianism over the working of which the Will has only 
an indirect control, the culture and discipline by which that 
Diechanism is shaped and directed is essentially Volitional. And 
since all acquirement of knowledge depends, in the first place, 
ou our recording power, and, in the second, on our power oi finding 



470 Of Meinory. 

what has been stored- awa}'' (so to speak) in our " Kecord-office," 
the culture of an exact and ready Memory is one of the most im- 
portant parts of Intellectual Education.* — Now the recording 
power mainly depends upon the degree of Attention we give, 
whether automatically or volitionally (§ 118), to the idea to be 
remembered ; and this will depend, for the most part, upon the 
degree of attraction it has for us. Thus a person who is fond of 
any ]^articular study, will generally have a better memory for the 
ideas vvhich come before him in the pursuit of it, than for those 
belonging to any other subject ; whilst, on the other hand, how- 
ever determinately a student may labour to acquire some branch 
of knowledge for which he has no natural aptitude, he finds that it 
is not only much more difficult to keep his Attention fixed upon it, 
but that a more close and prolonged fixation is required to im- 
print it on his Memory. — The reproducing power, again, altogether 
depends upon the nature of the Associations by which the new idea 
has been linked-on to other ideas which have been previously 
recorded, and which enter into our habitual current of thought. 
Some associations are local or accidental^ forming themselves, 
instead of being formed at any bidding of our own ; over these we 
have very little control. But those v/hich are most useful to us in 
the acquirement of Knowledge, and over the formation of which we 
have the most power, may be distinguished as rational ; being 
based on the fundamental relations of the ideas themselves, the 
perception of which gives to the new idea a definite place in our 
fabric of thought (§ 321). This is the kind of Memory which it is 
most desirable to cultivate to volitional attention ; since it tends to 
bring-up the ideas we have previously acquired, whenever we have 
dpecial occasion to reproduce them. A merely verbal memory dim 
scarcely be said to give us knowledge ; it merely supplies us with 
tbe symbols by which knowledge can be acquired (§ 198). 

* This subject is treated with great practical ability in Dr. Abercromlie'i 
** laquiiies concerning the Intellectual Powers." 



i 



CHAPTER XI 

/ OF COMMON SENSE. 

W6 The term "Common Sense" has been used in a vast variety 
A acceptations, of which a most learned collection will be found in 
Sir William Hamilton's supplemental note to Dr. Reid's Essay ; 
but it will be convenient here to use that of Dr. Reid himself, 
who says that the office of Common Sense, or the " first degree o f 
reason," is to "judge of things self-evident," as contrasted with 
the office of " the second degree of reason " (or Ratiocination), 
which is "to draw conclusions that are not self-evident from 
those that are." — The distinction between " Common Sense," and 
" Ratiocination " or the " discursive power," is regarded by Sir 
William Hamilton as equivalent to that which the Greek philoso- 
phers meant to indicate by the terms vovs and didvoia ; and our 
colloquial use of the former, as corresponding to that cultivated 
Common Sense which is often distinguished as " good sense," is 
thereby justified. — There are, however, two principal forms of this 
capacity, which it is desirable clearly to distinguish. 

377. The Jirst is what the philosopher ine2ina by Common Sense, 
ivhen he attributes to it the formation of those original convictions 
or ultimate beliefs, which cannot be resolved into simpler elements, 
and which are accepted by every normally-constituted human 
being as direct cognitions of his own mental states (§ 199). It 
might, indeed, be maintained that this " necessary " acceptance (•£ 
propositions which only need to be intelligibly stated to command 
unhesitating and universal assent, cannot be rightly termed an act 
of judgment. But just as Sense-perceptions, which are intuitive in 
the lower Animals, have to be acquired in Man by a process of 



4-72 Of Common Se^ise. 

Belf-education in the earliest stages, in which acts of judgment 
are continually called-for (§§ 160 — 184), so may we regard the 
autocratic deliverances of the universal Common Sense of Mankind 
as really having, in the first instance, the characters of true 
judgments, each expressing the general resultant of uniform 
experience, — which may be partly that of the Individual, and 
partly that of the Race embodied in the Constitution of each 
member of it (§§ 201, 202). 

378. The second or popular acceptation of the term Common 
Sense, on the other hand, is that of an attribute which judges of 
things whose self-evidence is not equally apparent to every 
individual, but presents itself to different individuals in very 
different degrees, according in part to the original constitution of 
each, and in part to the range of his experience and the degi'ee in 
which he has profited by it. This is the form of Common Sense 
by which we are mainly guided in the ordinary affairs of hfe : but 
inasmuch as we no longer find its deliverances in uniform ac- 
cordance, but encounter continual divergences of judgment as to 
what things are " self-evident," — some being so to A whilst they 
are not so to B, and others being self-evident to B which are not 
so to A, — it cannot be trusted as an autocratic or infallible 
authority. And yet, as Dr. Reid truly says, " disputes very often 
terminate in an appeal to common sense ;" this being especially 
the case, when to doubt its judgment would be ridiculous. 

379. If the view here taken be correct, these two foi*ms — which 
may be designated respectively as elementary and as ordinary Com- 
mon Sense — have fundamentally the same basis; and we may furthor 
connect with them as having a similar genesis, those special forme 
of Common Sense, which are the attribute of such as have applied 
themselves in a Scientific spirit to any particular com'se of inquiry, 
--things coming to be perfectly "self-evident" to men of such 
special culture, which ordinary men, or men whose special cultiu-f 
has Lain in a different dh-ection, do not apprehend as such. 



Nature of Common- Sense ytidgments. 473 

380. The judgment of Common Sense as to any " self-evident " 
truth, may be defined as the immediate or instinctive response that 'a 
given (in Psychological language) by the automatic action of the 
mind, or (in Physiological language), by the reflex action of the 
brain, to any question which can be answered by such a direct 
appeal. The nature and value of that response will depend upon 
the acquired condition of the mind, or of the brain, at the time it 
is given ; that condition being the general resultant of the whole 
Psychical activity of the individual. The particular form of that 
activity is determined, as we have seen, in the first place, by his 
original constitution ; secondly, by the influences which have been 
early brought to bear upon it from without ; and thirdly, by his 
own power of self-direction. And it may be said that while the 
elementary form of Common Sense depends mainly upon the first 
of these factors, its ordinary form chiefly. arises out of the first 
and second, and its special forms almost exclusively out of the 
third ; — the response being given, in each case, by a nervous 
mechanism, in the organization of which the generahzed results of 
the past experiences of consciousness (whether of the race or of 
the individual) have become embodied. — This doctrine may be 
made more intelligible to those who have not been accustomed to 
look at questions of this kind from the Physiological point of view, 
by reverting to what has been shown as to the Sense-perceptions 
and the Instinctive movements dependent upon them (Chap. V.) ; 
the capacity for each of these forms of activity, like that for 
'•judging of things self-evident," being acquired by the action of 
tX2'>erience on the original constitution. 

381 The parallel between the Cerebral action which fumishea 
the mechanism of thought now under consideration, and 
the action of the Sensori-motor apparatus which furnishes the 
mechanism of sense and motion, is extremely close. We have 
seen that there are certain Sense-perceptions, which, although not 
absolutely intuitive, very early come to possess — in every normally 



474 Of Common Sense. 

constituted Human being — the immediateness and perfection of 
those corresponding perceptions which are intuitive in the lower 
animals (§ 161) ; and that with these are associated certain respon- 
dent motions, which, though acquired by practice in the first in- 
stance, ultimately come to be performed as by a " second nature." 
Csrtain of these motions, such as walking -erect^ are universally 
acquired ; and thus obviously come to be the expressions of the 
original endowments of the mechanism, trained by an experience very 
similar in the uniformity of its character to that which educates 
the elementary form of Common Sense. For it must be clear to 
any one who compares the erect progression of a child who has 
just learned to walk, with that of a "dancing dog'' or even of a 
chimpanzee, that while experience makes its acquirement possible 
in each case, only an organism which is at the same time structu- 
rally adapted for erect progression, and possessed of a special co-or- 
dinating faculty, can turn such experience to full account (§ 192). 
The balancing the body in the erect position at starting, the mainte- 
nance of that balance by a new adjustment of the centre of gravity 
as the base of support is shifted from side to side and from behind 
forwards, and the alternate lifting and advance of the legs, involve 
the harmonious co-operation of almost all the muscles in the body. 
Although this co-operation is brought about in the first instance 
by the purposive direction of our efforts towards a given end, 
under the guidance of our visual and muscular sensations, yet 
when we have once learned to walk erect, we find ourselves able 
to maintain our balance without any exertion of which we are 
conscious J all that is necessary for the performance of this move- 
ment being that a certain stimulus (volitional, or some other) shall 
call the mechanism into activity. — But further, we have seen tha*" 
special powers of Sense-perception can be acquired by the habitual 
direction of the attention to particular classes of objects ; and 
that special movements come to be the secondarily automatic expreS" 
ftions of them (§ 193). How nearly related these are to the preced 



i 



A nalogy of Secondarily -automatic Movemen ts. 475 

mg, we may assure ourselves by attending to the process by which 
an adult learns to walk on a naiTow base, such as a rope or the 
edige of a plank. For the co-ordinating action has here to be gone 
through afresh under altered and more special conditions, so as to 
give a greater development to the balancing power ; yet when thia 
hat been fully acquired, it is exerted automa,tically with such on. 
immediateness and perfection, that a Blondin can cross Niagara on 
his rope with no more danger of falling into the torrent beneath, 
than any ordinary man would experience if walking without side- 
rails along the broad platform of the suspension-bridge which 
spans it. Now since in those cases in which Man acquires powers 
that are original or intuitive in the lower animals, there is the 
strongest reason for believing that a mechanism forms itself in him 
which is equivalent to that congenitally possessed by them, we seem 
fully justified in the belief that in those more special forms of 
activity which are the result of prolonged "training," the Sensori- 
motor apparatus grows-to the mode in which it is habitually exer- 
cised, so as to become fit for the immediate execution of the 
mandate it receives (§ 194) : it being often found to act not only 
without intelligent du'ection, but without any consciousness of 
exertion, in immediate response to some particular kind of stimu- 
lus, — just as an Automaton that executes one motion when a 
certain spring is touched, will execute a very different one when 
Bet going in some other way. 

382. There is strong analogical ground, then, for the belief that 
the higher part of the Nervous mechanism which is concerned in 
Psychical action, will follow the same lawj embodying the geno 
ralized result of its experiences, so as to become able to evolve, \)y 
a direct response, a result of which the attainment originally 
required the intervention of the conscious mind at several inter- 
mediate stages of the process. What there is strong ground for 
beUeving in regard to the 'perceptional consciousness, may fairly 
be extended to the ideational, which is so intimately related to it, 



4.76 0/ Commo7i Sense^ 



that it may be said to be only a higher development of the same 
form of Psychical activity. And thus our Intellectual conviction of 
the existence of the external world (for example) would be derived 
from the effect produced upon our original constitution by the 
automatic generalization of a multitude of separate experiences ; the 
resultant of this generalization having probably been embodied in 
the Nervous mechanism, long before the Intelligence is sufficiently 
developed to cognosce the idea which mentally represents it. The 
conviction, however, that those other " first truths " of a purely 
Intellectual character (§ 199), the aggregate of which constitutes 
the elementary Common Sense of the Philosopher, are not only true 
within the range of actual experience, but must he universally true, 
is one which requires not only a more advanced stage of Intel 
lectual development for its formation, but a Mental fabric specially 
prepared for its reception. And the unhesitating adoption of any 
proposition as " self-evident," which thus distinctly transcends the 
experience of the Individual, implies a congenital tendency to that 
mode of thought, which belongs to the constitution of the Race 
(§ 201). 

383. The like view may be extended to that acquired aptitude 
" for judging of things self-evident," here designated as ordinary 
Common Sense ; the deliverances of which may be regarded as 
based on the aggregate of om* past experiences, which have ranged 
themselves in the unconscious depths of our Intellectual nature by 
a process of automatic co-ordination, and have become embodied 
in our Cerebral organization. We often find it strongly manifested 
by persons of very limited acquirements, who are said to have a 
"fund of native good sense." On the other hand, we often meet 
with a singular want of it in persons of great learning, whose 
judgments about things that are "self-evident" to men of ordinary 
capacity are obviously untrustworthy. And if we examine into 
the nature of this difference, we shall find it to lie partly in the 
original Constitution of the individual, and partly in the range 0/ 



A 



Unconscious Co-ordi7iation of Experiences. 477 

the unconscious co-ordinating action, which in the fonner case bringa 
the whole experience to bear upon the question, whilst the decisions 
of the latter are based upon a limited, and therefore one-sided, view 
of it, — the defect of judgment • being due either to an original 
want of the co-ordinating power, or to disuse of the exercise of it 
through the limitation of the attention to special fields of s'^adv. 
It may often be noticed that Children display a power of bringing 
"common sense" to bear upon the ordinary affairs of life, which 
seems much beyond that of their elders; and yet a very sensible 
child will often grow into a much less sensible man. Now the 
reason of this seems to be, that the Child perceives the application 
of "self-evident" considerations to the case at issue, without being 
embarrassed by a number of other considerations (perhaps of a 
trivial or conventional nature) which distract the attention and 
unduly influence the judgment of the adult. And the deliverances 
of a child's " common sense" thus often resemble those of the old 
"Court Fools" or "Jesters," whose function seems to have been to 
speak out "home truths" which timid courtiers would not venture 
to utter. Moreover, as has been well remarked, "it is quite possible 
for minds of limited powder to manage a small range of experience 
much better than a large, to get confused (as it were) witti re- 
sources on too great a scale, and therefore to show far more 
Common Sense within the comparatively limited field of childish 
experience, than in the greater world of society or public life. 
■This is probably the explanation of a thing often seen, — how very 
sagacious people instinctively shrink from a field which their tact 
tells them is too large for them to manage, and keep to one where 
they are really supreme." {Spectator, Feb. 3, 1872.) 

384. Now, in so far as our conscioits Mental activity is under the 
direction of our Will, we can improve this form of Common Sense, 
as to both its range and the trustworthiness of its judgments, by 
appropriate training. Such training, as regards the purely Intel- 
lectual aspect of Common Sense, will consist in th<3 dctei-minate 



4-7^ Of Common Sense, 

culture of the habit of honestly seeking for Truth, — dismissing 
prejudice, setting aside self-interest, searching out all that can bo 
urged on each side of the question at issue, endeavouring to assign 
to every fact and argument its real value, and then weighing the 
two aggregates agaanst each other with judicial impartiality. For 
in proportion to the steadiness with which this course is volitixmally 
pursued, must be its effectiveness in shaping the mechanism whose 
automatic action constitutes the " unconscious thinking," of which 
the results express themselves in our Common-Sense judgments. 

Such was eminently the habit of mind of Joseph Hume ; a man 
whom it was the fashion to abuse and ridicule, simply because his 
honest and consistent advocacy of great principles now universally 
accepted, placed him in advance of his time ; but who in private life, 
as the Writer has been informed by a member of his family, was so 
noted for the excellence of his judgment, that he was continually re- 
sorted to by his friends for advice. This was readily and explicitly 
given, and was almost invariably justified by the event ; but he could 
seldom assign reasons for his conclusions. All he would say was, 
** Such is my opinion, but I cannot tell you how I have arrived at 
it." And thus his judgments were obviously the deliverances of his 
originally strong " Common Sense," improved by the discipline of the 
determinate and systematic direction of his conscious thinking to 
the attainment of Truth, the reaction of which on his automatic 
mechanism imparted to its operations the like tendency. 

385. The ordinary Common Sense of mankind, disciplined and 
enlarged by appropriate culture, becomes one of the most valuable 
instruments of Scientific inquiry ; affording in many instances the 
best, and sometimes the only, basis for a rational conclusion. A 
typical case, in which no special knowledge is required, is aflbrded 
by the " flint implements " of the Abbeville and Amiens gravel 
beds. No logical proof can be adduced that the peculiar shapes 
of these flints were given to them by Human hands ; but no 
unprejudiced person who has examined them now doubts it. The 
evidence of design, to which, after an examination of one or two 



Ordinary a.nd Special Commo7i Sense. 479 

Bucli specimens, we should only be justified in attaching a probable 
value, derives an irresistible cogency from accumulation. On the 
other hand, the mprobability that these flints acquired their 
peculiar shape by accident^ becomes to our minds greater and 
greater as more and more such specimens are found ; until at last 
this hypothesis, although it cannot be directly disproved, is felt to 
be almost inconceivable, except by minds previously "possessed" 
by the " dominant idea " of the modern origin of Man. And thus 
what was in the first instance a matter of discussion, has now 
become one of those " self-evident " propositions, which claim the 
unhesitating assent of all whose opinion on the subject is entitled 
to the least weight. 

386. We proceed upwards, however, from such questions as tho 
Common Sense of mankind generally is competent to decide, to 
those in which special knowledge is required to give value to the 
judgment : and here we must distinguish between those depart- 
ments of inquiry in which Scientific conclusions are arrived-at by 
a process of strict reasoning, and those in which they partake of 
the nature of Common-Sense judgments. Of the former class we 
have a typical example in Mathematics, and in those "exact 
sciences "' which make use of mathematics as their instrument of 
proof ; but even in these, it is " common-sense " which affords 
not only the basis, but the materials of the fabric. For while the 
Axioms of Geometry are " self-evident " truths which not only do 
not require proof, but are not capable of being proved in all their uni- 
versality (§ 200), every step of a " demonstration" is an assertion 
of which our acceptance depends on our incapability of conceiving 
either the cc/iitrary or anything else than the thing asserted. And 
thus the certain assurance of the Q. E. J), felt by every persoii 
capable of understanding a Mathematical demonstration, depends 
upon the conclusive " self-evidence " of each step of it. But we not 
unfrequently meet with individuals, not deficient in ordinary Corn* 
iiion Sense, who cannot be brought to see this "self-evidence;" whilst* 
35 



480 Of Commo7i Sense. 

on the other hand, the advanced Mathematician, when adventuring 
into new paths of inquiry, is able to take a great deal for granted 
as "self-evident," which at an earlier stage of his researches would 
not have so presented itself to his mind. The deliverances of this 
acquired intuition can in most cases be readily justified by tho 
reasoning process which they have anticipated. But the genius of 
a Mathematician — that is, his special aptitude developed by special 
culture — will occasionally enable him to divine a truth, of which, 
though he may be able to prove it experientially, neither he nor 
any other can at the time furnish a logical demonstration (§ 205). 
In this divining power we have clear evidence of the existence of 
a capacity which cannot be accounted for by the mere "co- 
ordination " of antecedent experiences, whether of the Individual 
or of the Race ; and yet, as already shown, such co-ordination has 
furnished the stimulus to its development (§§ 202 — 207). 

387. Of those departments of Science, on the other hand, in 
which our conclusions rest (like those of ordinary Common Sense) 
not on any one set of experiences, but upon our unconscious 
co-ordination of the whole aggregate of our experiences, — not on the 
conclusiveness of any one train of reasoning, but on the convergence 
of all our lines of thought towards one centre, — Geology may be 
taken as a typical example. For this inquiry brings (as it were) 
into one focus, the light afforded by a great variety of studies, — 
Physical and Chemical, Geographical and Biological j and throws 
it on the pages of that great Stone Book in which the past history 
of our globe is recorded. And its real progress dates from the 
time when that " common sense " method of interpretation came 
to be generally adopted, which consists in seeking the explanation 
of past changes in the forces at present in operation, instead oi 
invoking (as the older Geologists were wont to do) the aid oi 
extiaordinary and mysterious agencies. 

Of the adequacy of common sense to arrive at a decisive judgment 
under the guidance of the convergence just indicated, we have a good 



Co-ordination of Special Experiences. 48 1 

example in the following occurrence : — A man having had his pocket 
picked of a purse, and the suspected thief having been taken with a 
purse upon him, the loser was asked if he could swear to it as his 
property. This he could not do ; but as he was able to name not 
only the precise sum which the purse contained, but also the pieces 
t)f money of which that sum consisted, the jury unhesitatingly 
assigned to him the ownership of the purse and its contents. — A 
mathematician could have calculated, from the number of the coins, 
what were the chances against the correctness of a mere guess ; but 
no such calculation could have added to the assurance afforded by 
common sense, that the man who could tell not only the number of 
the coins in the purse, but the value of each one of them, must 
have been its possessor. 

388. Familiar instances of the like formation of a basis of 
Judgment by the unconscious co-ordination of experiences, will be 
found in many occurrences of daily life ; in which the effect of 
special training manifests itself in the formation of decisions, that 
are not the less to be trusted because they do not rest on assign- 
able reasons ; — 

a. Thus, a Literary man, who has acquired by culture the art of 
writing correctly and forcibly, without having ever formally studied 
either grammar, the logical analysis of sentences, or the artifices 
of rhetoric, will continually feel, in criticizing his own writings or 
those of others, that there is something faulty in style or construction, 
and may be able to furnish the required correction, whilst altogether 
unable to say in what the passage is wrong, or why his amendment 
sets it right. 

h. Or, to pass into an entirely different sphere, a practised Detective 
will often arrive, by a sort of divination, at a conviction of the guilt 
or innocence of a suspected person, which ultimately turns out 
to be correct ; and yet he could not convey to another any adequate 
reasons for his assurance, which depends upon the impression made 
upon his mind by minutice of look, tone, gesture, or manner, which 
have little or no signiticance to ordinary observers, but which hia 
specially-cultured Common Sense instinctively apprehends (§ 423). 

389. But, in the ordinary affairs of life, our Common-Sensa 



^82 Of Common Sense, 

judgments are so largely mfluenced by the Emotional pari of our 
nature — our individual likes and dislikes, the predominance of our 
Bo'fish or of our benevolent affections, and so on, — that their v&Iue 
will still more essentially depend upon the earnestness and per- 
sistency of our self-direction towards the Right. The more 
faitlifuUy, strictly, and perseveringiy we try to disentangle our- 
selves from all selfish aims, all conscious prejudices, the more shall 
we find ourselves progressively emancipated from those unconscious 
prejudices, which cling around us as results of early misdirection 
and habits of thought, and which (having become embodied in our 
organization) are more dangerous than those against which we 
knowingly put ourselves on our guard. And so, in proportion to 
the degree in which we habituate ourselves to try every question by 
first principles, rather than by the supposed dictates of a temporar-v 
expediency, will the Mechanism of oiu* " unconscious thinking " 
form itself in accordance with those principles, so as often to 
evolve results which satisfy both ourselves and others with 
their " self-evident " truthfulness and rectitude. — It has been 
well remarked by a man of large experience of Human nature 
and action, that the habitual determination to do the right 
thing, marvellously clears the Judgment as to matters purely 
intellectual or prudential, having in themselves no moral bearing. 

Of this we have a good illustration in the advice which an eminent 
and experienced Judge (the story is told of Lord Mansfield) is said to 
have given to a younger friend, newly appointed to a Colonial judge- 
ship : — " Never give reasons for your decisions ; your judgments will 
very probably be right, but your reasons will almost certainly he 
wrong." The meaning of this may he taken to be: — '* Your legal 
instinct, or specially-trained Common Sense, based on your general 
knowledge of Law, guided by your honesty of intention, will Tery 
probably lead you to correct conclusions ; but your knowledge of the 
technicalities of law is not sufficient to enable you to give reasons for 
those conclusions, which shall bear the test of hostile scrutiny." 

390. But fiu-ther, in any of those complicated questions that tat 



Progressive Improveinent of Common Sense. 483 



pretty sure to come before us all at some time or other in oui 
lives, — as to which there is "a great deal to be said on both 
sides ; " in which it is difficult to say what is prudent and eyen 
what is right j in which it is not duty and inclination that are at 
Jisue, but one set of duties and inclinations at issue with another, 
•-Experience justifies che conclusion to which Science seems to 
lioint, that the habitually well-regulated mind forms its surest 
judgment by trusting to the automatic guidance of its Common 
Sense ; just as a rider who has lost his road is more likely to find 
his way home by dropping the reins on his horse's neck, than by 
continuing to jerk them to this side or that in the vain search for 
it. For continued argument and discussion, in which the feelings 
are excited on one side, provoke antagonistic feehngs on the other ; 
^nd no true balance can be struck until all these adventitious 
influences have ceased to operate. When aU the considerations 
which ought to be taken into the account have been once brought 
fully before the mind, it is far better to leave them to arrange 
themselves, by turning the conscious activity of the mind into 
some other direction, or by giving it a complete repose. If 
adequate time be given for this unconscious co-ordination, which is 
especially necessary wuen the Feelings have been strongly and 
deeply moved, we find, when we bring the question again under 
consideration, that the direction in which the mind gravitates is a 
safer guide than any judgment formed when we are fresh from its 
discussion (§ 431). 

391. Not only may the range and value of such Common-Sense 
jidgments be increased by appropriate culture in the individual, 
f<'f, of all parts of our higher nature, the aptitude for forming them 
uj probably that which is most capable of being transmitted 
lioreditarily ; so that the descendant of a well-educated ancestry 
constitutionally possesses it in much higher measure than the 
progeny of any savage race. And it seems to be in virtue of this 
LLitomatic co-ordination of the elements of judgment, rather thao 



4^4 Of Com7non Sense. 

of any process of conscious ratiocination — by the exercise of tLe 
¥ovs rather than of the hiavoia — that the Race, Uke the Individual, 
emancipates itself from early prejudices, gets rid of worn-out 
beliefs, and learns to look at things as they are, rather than as 
they have been traditionally represented. This is what is really 
expressed by the " Progress of Rationalism." For although that 
progress undoubtedly depends in great part upon the more general 
diffusion of knowledge, and the higher culture of those intellectual 
powers which are exercised in the acquirement of it, yet this alone 
would be of little avail, if the self-discipline thus exerted did not 
act downwards in improving the mechanism that evolves the 
" self-evident " material of our reasoning processes, as well as 
upwards in more highly elaborating their product. If we examine, 
for instance, the history of the decline of the belief in Witchcraft, 
we find that it was not killed by discussion, but perished of 
neglect. The Common Sense of the best part of mankind has 
come t^ ije ashamed of ever having put any faith in things whose 
absurdity now appears "self-evident;" no discussion of evidence 
once regarded as convincing is any longer needed ; and it is only 
among those of our hereditarily-uneducated population, whose 
general intelligence is about upon a par with that of a Hottentot 
or an Esquimaux, that we any longer find such faith entertained. 
— In the Writer's belief, the "Spiritualistic" doctrines of the 
present day will be looked upon by the Intelligence of future 
generations, with the same pitying wonder that we extend to the 
old belief in Witchcraft. 

392. There is, in fact, a sort of under-current, not of actually 
formed Opinion, but of tendency to the formation of opinions, in 
cei-tain directions, which bursts up every now and then to the sur- 
fuce ; exhibiting a latent preparedness in the public mind to look at 
great questions in a new point of view, which leads to most- 
g+riking results when adequately guided. That " the hour is 
come— and the man," is what History continually reproduces; 



Development of l7ttuitive Power, 485 

neither can do anything effectively without the other. But a 
great idea thrown out by a mind in advance of its age, takes root 
and germinates in secret, shapes the " unconscious thought " of a 
few individuals of the next generation, is by them diffused still 
more widely, and thus silently matures itself in the "womb of 
time," xmtil it comes forth, like Minerva, in full panoply of 
power. 

393. Those who are able to look back with intelligent retrospect 
over the Political history of the last half-century, and who witness 
the now general pervasion of the public mind by truths which it 
accepts as " self-evident," and by Moral principles which it regards 
as beyond dispute, can scarcely realise to themselves the fact that 
within their own recollection the fearless assertors of those truths 
and principles were scoffed at as visionaries or reviled as de- 
structives. And those whose experience is limited to a more 
recent period, must see, in the rapid development of public 
opinion on subjects of the highest importance, the evidence of a 
previous unconscious preparedness, which may be believed to 
consist mainly in the higher development and more general 
diffusion of that automatic co-ordinating power, which constitutes* 
the essence of Reason as distinct from Reasoning. 

394. Thus, then, every course of Intellectual and Moral self-dis- 
cipline, steadily and honestly pursued, tends not merely to clear the 
mental vision of the Individual, but to ennoble the Race ; by 
helping to develope that Intuitive power, which arises in the 
first instance from the embodiment in the Human Ccnstitution 
of the general resultants of antecedent experience, but which, in 
its highest forai, far transcends the experience that has furnished 
the materials for its evolution, — just as the creative power of 
Imagination shapes-out conceptions which no merely constructive 
skill could devise (§ 408). 

The following extract from a letter addressed to the "Writer hj the 
lato Mr J. S. Mill, Jan. 29, 1872, will be interesting as an expression 



486 Of Common Sense. 

of his matured views on several questions discussed in the preceding 
pages : — 

" I have long recognized as a fact that judgments really grounded, 
on a long succession of small experiences mostly forgotten, or perhap»» 
never brought out into very distinct consciousness, often grow into 
the likeness of intuitive perceptions. I believe this to be the expla- 
nation of the intuitive insight thought to be characteristic of women , 
and of that which is often found in experienced practical persons wh& 
have not attended much to theory, nor been often called on to explain 
the grounds of their judgments. I explain in the same mannei 
whatever truth there is in presentiments. And I should agree with 
you that a mind which is fitted by constitution and habits to receive 
truly and retain well the impressions made by its passing experiences, 
will often be safer in relying on its intuitive judgments, representa- 
tive of the aggregate of its past experience, than on the inferences 
that can be drawn from such facts or reasonings as can be distinctly 
called to mind at the moment. — Now you seem to think that judgment 
by what is called Common Sense is a faculty of this kind ; and, so far 
as the genesis of it is concerned, I think you are right ; but it seems 
to me that there is a great practical difference. [The difi'erence which 
Mr. Mill goes on to point out, is that which the Writer has above 
defined as the distinction between the ordinary and the special forms 
of Common Sense.] 

" On the Physiological side of Psychology, your paper raises 
questions of great and increasing interest. — When states of Mind 
in no respect innate or instinctive have been frequently repeated, 
the Mind acquires, as is proved by the power of Habit, a greatly 
increased facility of passing into those states ; and this increased 
facility must be owing to some change of a physical character, in 
the organic action of the Brain. There is also considerable evidence 
that such acquired facilities of passing into certain modes of Cerebral 
action can in many cases be transmitted, more or less completely, 
by Inheritance. The limits of this transmission, and the conditions 
on which it depends, are a subject now fairly before the scientific 
world ; and we shall doubtless in time know much more about 
them than we do now. But so far as my imperfect knowledge ol 
the subject extends, I take much the same view of it that you do, 
at least in principle." 



CHAPTER XTI. 

OF IMAGINATION. 

S95 The fonn of Ideational activity which we distinguish as Imarji- 
nation, has the same basis as that which exerts itself in Reasoning 
processes ; but works in a very different manner. In its lowest 
and simplest exercise, Imagination, or the image-making power, 
consists in that reproduction of the mental " idea" or representation 
3f an object formerly perceived through the senses, which is more 
generally understood by the term Conception. In strict language, 
every such reproduction of an image, however distinctly traceable to 
the laws of Association, is an act of Imagination. This, however, is 
not the generally understood meaning of the term ; which is usually 
applied to the faculty by which, in the Jirst place, the materials 
supplied by experience or direct apprehension are recombined in 
such forms as to gratify the sense of beauty or fitness, rather than 
to satisfy the reason ; and by which, in the second place, some 
higher form of Beauty than experience has ever presented, or some 
more profound Truth than reason could bring within our grasp, is 
discerned by direct " insight," — the " vision and the faculty divine." 
Thus we may distinguish between the constructive and the creative 
Imagination ; and each may be exercised in every department of 
Human knowledge, whether relating to external Nature or to Human 
nature. It is a very limited view of the Imagination to regard 
its operation as restricted to works of Art, of which the object is to 
gratify the ^Esthetic sense ; for, as will be presently shown, its 
highest exercise is put forth in the discovery of great fundamental 
Truths, as well in Science as in Art, in the Universe around as in 
the Mind of Mao. 



488 Of I mag {nation. 



396. The exercise of the constructive Imagination requires a mind 
not only richly stored with materials, but endowed with the power 
of readily reproducing them; together with a judgment guided by 
correct taste and artistic sensibility, whereby the most appropriate 
images are selected and combined into the forms most effective foi 
the production of the desired impression. In fact, the mental 
process by which the constructive Imagination works, is only an 
ideal rendering of that which Praxiteles is said have employed when 
commissioned to produce a statue of Venus for the people of Cos, 
— naifaely the selection of the most beautiful parts of the most beau- 
tiful female figures he could obtain as models, and the combination 
of these into one harmonious whole. It is that by which, for the 
most part, the Architects of the present time essay to produce 
their designs. And it differs but little in kind from that which the 
Mechanician employs, when devising a piece of Machinery for a 
given purpose, which only requires some new combination of levers, 
wheels, &c., involving no new principle of action. The following 
description seems accurately to represent the method in which the 
constructive Imagination ordinarily works : — 

" The general idea, or the subject in its outlines, must be supposed 
to be already present to the mind of the writer. He accordingly 
commences the task before him with the expectation and the desire of 
developing the subject more or less fully, of giving to it not only a 
greater continuity and a better arrangement, but an increased interest 
in every respect. As he feels interested in the topic which he pro- 
poses to write upon, he can, of course, by a mere act of the Will — 
although he might not have been able, in the first instance, to have 
originated it by such an act — detain it before him for any length of 
time. Various conceptions continue, in the meanwhile, to arise in 
ihe mirid, on the common principles of Association ; but, as the general 
outline of the subject remains the same, they have all a greater or 
less relation to it. And partaking, in some measure, of the per- 
manency of the outline to which they have relation, the writer ha a 
an opportunity to approve some and to reject others, according aa 
they impress him as being suitable or unsuitable to the liature of the 



Constructive Imagination. 489 

subject. Those whicli affect him with emotions of pleasure, on 
account of their perceived fitness for the subject, are retained and 
committed to writing ; while others, which do not thus affect and 
interest him, soon fade away altogether." — {Upham^a Elements oj 
Mental Philosophy, Vol. i. p. 385.) 

The process of selection among the variety of Conceptions that 
fipontaneously occur to the mind, and then rapidly give place 
to others if not Volitionally retained, has been thus graphically 
described by Dr. Eeid : — 

*' We seem to treat the thoughts that present themselves to the 
fancy in crowds, as a great man treats the courtiers who attend at his 
levee. They are all ambitious of his attention. He goes round the 
circle, bestowing a bow upon one, a smile upon another; asks a 
short question of a third, while a fourth is honoured with a particular 
conference ; and the greater part have no particular mark of attention, 
but go as they came. It is true, he can give no mark of his atten- 
tion to those who were not there; but he has a sufficient number 
for making a choice and distinction." — [Essay iv. chap. 4.) 

397. The faculty of Imagination, therefore, works within the same 
limits as that of Recollection (§ 373). The recurrence of images 
is essentially automatic; but the mind can determinately place 
itself in the condition most favourable to their reproduction, and 
can project itself, as it were, in search of them. While some persons 
are obliged to wait until the memory supplies them with the image 
they desiderate, there are others who are distinguished by the 
exuberance of this reproductive power ; so that they have only to 
ask themselves for an appropriate simile or metaphor, and it 
immediately occurs to them. When a})ologising for the "lavish 
imagery" of Scott's historical style (which caused the French to 
dosignale his Life of Napoleon as "Walter Scott's last novel"), 
hia biographer says of him : — "Metaphorical illustrations, wdnch 
ni^n born with prose in their souls hunt fur painfully, and find 
oiJy to murder, were, to him, the natural and necessary offspring 
and playthings of ever-teeming fancy. He could not write a note 



4-90 Of Imagination. 



to liis printer, he could not speak to himself iu his diary, without 
introducing them." Some, again, use images merely as illnstra^ 
tions, dismissing each as it has served its purpose, and availing 
themselves of new figures as they pass before the mental vision, 
Dut the " constructive " Imagination is most characteristically 
exercitsed in the elaboration of some work which consists of a 
methodical aggregation of separate images, that are grouped 
round what may be termed a central idea. Thus Walter Scott, 
whom we may regard as a typical instance of this form of 
imagination (without by any means denying his possession of the 
higher attribute), generally took as the basis of his novels (as 
Shakspere did of his plays) some story or stories j^reviously 
existing ; and meditated on this fundamental conception, nntil it 
had taken a distinct form in his own mind. When it had reached 
this stage, the further development of it seems to have been 
generally very easy to him. Waking early, he used to lie 
" simmering " for an hour or two ; and then, rising and seating 
himself at his writing-table, he would throw off chapter after 
chapter as fast as his pen could trace the words. How much he 
was aided by Memory, is curiously shown in the use which he 
made of casual suggestions or occurrences. Thus we are told by 
Mr. Lockhart, with reference to the composition of " Ivanhoe " (of 
which the earlier part was written towards the close of the severe 
illness in which the " Bride of Lammermoor " was produced, 
§ 124 e\ that— 

a. " The introduction of the charming Jewess and her father 
originated in a conversation Scott held with his friend Skene during 
the severest season of his bodily sufferings. 'Mr. Skene,' says that 
^[ontleman's wife, * sitting by his bedside, and tryijig to amuse him 
ie well as he could in the intervals of pain, happened to get upon the 
subject of the Jews, as he had observed them when he spent some 
time in Germany in his youth. Their situation had naturally made 
a strong impression , for in those days they retained their own dress 
and manners entire, and were treated with considerable austerity bj 



i 



Constrtictive Imagination. 49 1 

their Christian neighbours, being still locked up at night in their own 
quarter by great gates ; and Mr. Skene, partly in seriousness, but 
partly from the mere wish to turn his mind at the moment upon 
something that might occupy and divert it, suggested that a grou[) of 
Jews would be an interesting feature if he could contrive to bring 
them into his next novel.' Upon the appearance of 'Ivanhoe,' ho 
reminded Mr. Skene of this conversation, and said, ' You will find 
this book owes not a little to your German reminiscences.' Mrs. 
Skene adds — ' Dining with us one day, not long before 'Ivanhoe' waa 
begun, something that was mentioned led him to describe the sudden 
death of an Advocate of his acquaintance — a Mr. Elphinstone — which 
occurred in the Outer-house soon after he was called to the bar. It 
was, he said, no wonder that it had left a vivid impression on hia 
mind, for it was the first sudden death he had ever witnessed ; and he 
now related it so as to make us all feel as if the scene was passing 
before our eyes. In the death of the Templar in * Ivanhoe,' I 
recognised the very picture — I believe I may safely say the very 
words.' 

"Before 'Ivanhoe' made its appearance, I had myself been formally 
admitted to the author's secret; but had he favoured me with no 
Buch confidence, it would have been impossible for me to doubt that 
I had been present some months before at the conversation which 
suggested, and indeed supplied, the materials of one of its most 
amusing chapters. I allude to that in which our Saxon terms for 
animals in the field, and our Norman equivalents for them as they 
appear on the table, and so on, are explained and commented on. 
All this Scott owed to the after-dinner talk one day, in Castle Street, 
of his old friend, Mr. William Clerk." — {Lift of Scott, chap, xlvi.) 

The following particulars supplied by Mr. Morritt of llokeby, 
respecting Scott's mode of obtaining materials for the romantic 
poem he was composing on the traditions connected with that pic- 
turesque seat, are interesting from the additional light they throw 
on the method in which Scott's "constructive" imagination made us9 
of the materials supplied by fact and legend ; sometimes fitting the 
scene to the legend, and sometimes the legend to the scene : — 

6. '* I had of course," sa} s Mr. Morritt, " had many previous oppot" 



4-92 Of Imagination. 

tunities of testing the almost conscientious fidelity of his local descrip- 
tions ; but I could not help being singularly struck with the light 
which this visit threw on that characteristic of his compositions. The 
morning after he arrived, he said, * You have often given me materials 
for romance : now I want a good robber's cave, and an old church of 
the right sort.' We rode out, and he found what he wanted in the 
ancient slate quarries of Brignal and the ruined Abbey of Eggleston. 
I observed him noting down even the peculiar little wild flowers and 
herbs that accidentally grew round and on the side of a bold crag near 
his intended cave of Guy Denzil ; and could not help saying that, as 
he was not to be upon oath in his work, daisies, violets, and primroses 
would be as poetical as any of the humbler plants he was examining. 
I laughed, in short, at his scrupulousness ; but I understood him 
when he replied, that in Nature herself no two scenes were exactly 
alike, and that whoever copied truly what was before his eyes, 
would possess the same variety in his descriptions, and exhibit 
apparently an imagination as boundless as the range of nature 
in the scenes he recorded ; whereas whoever trusted to Imagination 
would soon find his own mind circumscribed, and contracted 
to a few favourite images, and the repetition of these would 
sooner or later produce that very monotony and barrenness 
which had always haunted descriptive poetry in the hands of any but 
the patient worshippers of truth. Besides which, he said, * local 
names and peculiarities make a fictitious story look so much better 
in the face.' In fact, from his boyish habits he was but half satisfied 
with the most beautiful scenery, when he could not connect with it 
some local legend ; and when I was forced sometimes to confess with 
the Knife-grinder, ' Story ! God bless you ! I have none to tell, 
sir ! ' — he would laugh and say, ' Then let us make one : nothing so 
easy as to make a tradition.' " — (Op. cil, chap, xxv.) 

398. The practice of the Italian tviprovisatori, who, without pre- 
paration, compose and utter a long series of verses upon any given 
subject, affords a characteristic example of the readiness with which 
the Memory supplies the requisite materials to such as have a 
Bj)ecial gift for versification, and have improved that gift by culture. 

The practice is of frequent occurrence m Italy ; and the facilitiei 



Constructne Imagiitation : — Improvisation. 493 

which the structure of the Italian language affords to versification 
and rhj'me, are of great assistance towards it. The improvisatort 
delivers his verse, generally accompanied by a guitar, and with a 
sort of chanting cadence ; and he spins out hundreds, nay at times 
tliousands, of lines with, apparent ease ; whole dramas have indeed 
been thus delivered. It must not be imagined, however, that thia 
kind of extempore poetry is of the best kind ; in reality, very few 
cf these compositions can stand the test of publication. Still they 
have the merit of the flow of language, and the quick adaptation of 
accessory ideas and images to the main subject, which rivet the 
attention and excite the surprise of the listeners. 

Some examples there are, indeed, of improvisatori, who, uniting 
high culture to a great original gift of extemporaneous versifi- 
cation, have acquired, by continual practice, a facility in producing 
unpremeditated verses which would not only bear perusal, but even 
l)ass the ordeal of severe criticism. — Another species of impromptu 
peculiar to Italy is the extempore Comedy ; in which only the 
outline of the plot, with an indfcation of the characters, is given 
to be filled up at the spur of the moment by the performers. It is 
said that the great painter, Salvator Rosa, had a remarkable gift 
for this kind of performance ; in which, in more recent times, 
Louis Riccoboni and his wife Plamenia showed a proficiency so 
extraordinary, that it was suspected that they did not really act 
air imjyrovista, but that they were imposing on the public by 
preconcerted schemes. This, however, was clearly proved not 
to be the case ; and Riccoboni gave the following account of the 
peculiar combination of endowments required for success in thia 
role: — "An actor of this description, always supposing an actor 
of genius, is more vividly affected than one who has coldly got his 
I'^rl by rote. But figure, memory, voice, and even sensibility, are 
not sufficient for the actor alV im2:)roviste ; he must be in the habit 
)f cultivating the imagination, pouring forth the flow of expression, 
and prompt iu those flashes which instantaneously vibrate in the 
p] audits of the audience." 



494 Of Imagination, 



399. The most remarkable example of Improvisation which oui 
own country has supplied, was one of an entirely different 
character ; Theodore Hook's improvised versification being rather 
witty and humorous, than what is ordinarily understood aa 
imaginative. 

a. " Thus, very early in his career, he displayed his extraordinary 
gift of extemporaneous singing, at a dinner given by the Drury 
Lane Company to Sheridan. The company was numerous, and 
generally strangers to Mr. Hook; hut, without a moment's pre- 
meditation, he composed a verse upon every person in the room, full 
of the most pointed wit and with the truest rhymes, unhesitatingly 
gathering into his subject, as he rapidly proceeded, in addition to 
what had passed during the dinner, every trivial incident of the 
moment. Every action was turned to account ; every circumstance, 
the look, the gesture, or any other accidental effects, served as 
occasion for more wit ; and even the singer's ignorance of the names 
and condition of many of the party seemed to give greater facility to 
his brilliant hits, than even acquaintance with them might have 
furnished. Mr. Sheridan was astonished at his extraordinary 
facility. No description, he said, could have convinced him of so 
peculiar an instance of genius ; and he protested that he should not 
have believed it to be an unstudied effort, had he not seen proof that 
no anticipation could have been formed of what might arise to furnish 
matter and opportunities for the exercise of this rare talent." — {Lift 
of Mathews, vol. ii., p. 59.) 

We are told by the writer of a notice of Theodore Hook in the 
" Quarterly Review " (vol. Ixxii.), that, either early in the evening 
or very late, his improvisation was indifferent ; the reason appa- 
rently being that his gift required the stimulus of wine and society, 
but that too much of the former would prevent him from keeping 
up the necessary continuity of idea. 

h. Another friend describes a meeting between Coleridge and Hook, 
at which the latter *' burst into a bacchanal of egregious luxury, 
every line of which had reference to the author of the ' Lay Sermons' 
and * Aids to Ee flection ' " An absurd scene followed, every indi- 



Cunstructive Imagination : — Improvisation. 495 



ViduaFs share in which "had apt, in masy cases exquisitely witty 
commemoration." In walking home, Coleridge gave the narrator 
" a most excellent lecture on the distinction between talent 
and genius ; and declared that Hook was as true a genius a? 
Dante." 

Lat Hook further enjoyed, in a very remarkable degree, that 
faculty of dramatic imagination, which enables its possessor to 
identify himself for a time with the personality of another, so as 
not merely to act the part of that other, but (ideally) to he that 
other (§ 364). Thus, when staying in a country house with men 
distinguished in Parliamentary or Forensic oratory, he would give, 
when "in the vein," a whole series of imitations ; representing not 
merely the manner but the matter of each speaker so closely, that 
the audience could almost believe that they were listening to the 
man himself. It was only when he was '* primed" for such 
a performance hy alcoholic stimulants, and encouraged by the 
admiration of his audience, that his gift would manifest itself in 
full force; and its automatic rather than its volitional character 
is obvious from the fact, that its greatest displays took place just 
at that stage of alcoholic excitement, in which the Automatic 
activity of the mind is increased, whilst the controlling power of 
Volition is weakened (§ 544). 

400. The power of Improvisation for which certain Musicians 
have been especially distinguished, requires for its highest exercise 
a combination of the constructive power acquired by training, 
with the creative power which nothing but Genius can supply. 
Any Musician who practises the art, can extemporise a set of 
"variations" upon an air, or work up a "subject'' into a fugue, 
according to certain set forms ; and the product can be in a great 
dr!gree anticipated by any one who is familiar with the "manner" 
of the player. To this extent, therefore, the power is undei 
Volitional control ; whilst, in so far as tlie improvisation is creative^ 
it is purely Automatic ; and all that the Musician can himself do, 
36 



11-96 Of Imagination. 

is to place himself in conditions favourable to the spontaneous 
flow of his ideas. 

a. Of all Musicians, Mozart seems to have had inventive power mo£.l 
completely at call, so that he could never draw upon it, without (in 
commercial phrase) his draft being instantly " honoured." Thus, it is 
recorded of him that, " in the performance of his own Concertos, he 
never confined himself to the precise melody before him, but varied 
it from time to time with singular grace and beauty, according to the 
inspiration of the moment." This feat seems the more remarkable, 
as, in such a performance, he could not give free scope to his invention, 
as in a solo fantasia, but had always to keep himself in due relation 
to his Orchestra. — In the following incident, we have an example 
of his unsurpassed inventive power when working entirely unfettered, 
and .under the stimulus of the warmest sympathy. It should be pre- 
mised that the Concert at which it occurred was one given by Mozart, 
at Prague, the inhabitants of which ancient city had shown them 
selves singularly appreciative of *' Le Nozze di Figaro," which had 
been produced there a short time before. The concert, every piece in 
which was of Mozart's own composition, was to end with an improvisa- 
tion on the pianoforte. *' Having preluded and played a fantasia, 
which lasted a good half-hour, Mozart rose ; but the stormy and 
outrageous applause of his Bohemian audience was not to be appeased, 
and he again sat down. His second fantasia, which was of an 
entirely different character, met with the same success ; the applause 
was without end ; and, long after he had retired to the withdrawing 
room, he heard the people in the theatre thundering for his reap- 
pearance. Inwardly delighted, he presented himself for the third 
time. Just as he was about to begin, when every noise was hushed, 
and the stillness of death reigned throughout the theatre, a voice in 
the pit cried, ^ From Figaro,^ He took the hint, and ended this 
triumphal display of skill by extemporising a dozen of the most 
interesting and scientific variations upon the air Non piu andrai. 
It is needless to mention the uproar that followed." — {Holmes's Life 
of Mozart,^. 278.) 

401. The mental processes which are concerned in the exercise of 
eonetructive Imagination, are also in operation in the production of 
»ther embellishments of ordinary prosaic language to which we g\v« 



Distinctive Character of Fancy. 497 

distinctive names. That which comes nearest to Imagination — so 
near, indeed, that no distinct line of demarcation can be drawn 
between them — is Fancy. Notwithstanding that much has been 
written on the relative characters of these two attributes,* it seema 
impt »ssible to define them otherwise than by the states of Mind to 
whi(h their products are respectively addressed. For whilst the 
Imagination works on the sense of beauty, of grandeur, of sub- 
limity, or, by way of contrast, on that of aversion, awe, or even 
terror, — Fancy plays with the grotesque, the whimsical, the ridicu- 
lous, in shorty with the "fanciful;" its function being rather to 
amuse by its superficial " caprices " and " strange conceits," than 
to appeal to the deeper nature. 

** Fancy," says Wordsworth, *' is given to quicken and beguile the 
temporal part of our nature ; Imagination, to incite and support the 
eternal." And he gives, as an example, the use of the same image 
by two writers ; in the one case as a mere ** conceit," in the other aa 
a grand stroke of imaginative genius. The effect of the following 
couplet, ascribed to Lord Chesterfield — 

" The dews of the evening most carefully shun, 
They are tears of the sky for the loss of the sun,** 

*• is a flash of surprise, and nothing more ; for the nature of things 
does not sustain the combination." But when Milton marks the 
sympathy of Nature with the transgression of Adam, in the grand 
lines — 

** Sky lowered, and muttering thunder, some sad drops 
"Wept at completion of the mortal sin. " 

** the effects from the act, of which there is this immediate con se- 
quence and visible sign, are so momentous, that the mind acknowledges 

* Dr. Trench, in his "Study of Words,'' assigns to Wordsworth the credit of 
having, in his original preface to his "Lyrical Ballads" (reprinted separately in 
his aiUected works), distinctly limited the i-espective provinces of Fancy and 
Imagination. But, however clear may be the boundary lines which Wordswcith 
marked out in the domain of Poeti'y, we fail to trace them when we follow the 
Imagination into other departments of Art, still more into Science and Human 
Nature. 



49^ 0/ Imagination, 



fche justice and reasonableness of the sky weeping drops of water as 
if with human eyes." 

The pages of Shakspere, and many of those of Jeremy Taylor, 
are full of the products both of Fancy and Imagination ; but 
while in George Wither and Charles Lamb the Fancy predomi- 
nates, Milton is the pre-eminent type of Imagination (as distin- 
guished from fancy) in Poetry, as Walter Scott may be considered 
to be in Prose. 

402. Closely akin to Fancy, but differing from it in the kind of 
feeling which it excites, is Wit ; the distinctive character of which 
(as now understood) is "a felicitous association of objects not 
usually connected, so as to produce a pleasant surprise." It is this 
intellectual surprise which is the essence of pure Wit ; but Humour 
is often mixed up with it. The lowest form of wit is that mere 
play on words, which is known as " punning ; " this being, 
according to the definition of Addison, '* a conceit arising from the 
use of two words that agree in sound but differ in the sense," or, as 
might be said in certain cases, use of the same word in two different 
senses (§ 403 h). Thus a man having undertaken to pun on any 
subject that might be given him, and the word "King" having been 
named, replied that "the King was no subject." Here the wit 
lay in the double meaning attached to the word "subject," or, 
as Addison would say, to the unexpectedness of the relation 
brought out between what are really two distinct words agreeing 
only in sound. The effect is heightened when this double entendre 
presents itself more than once in the same sentence : — 

a. Thus Bishop Mountain, being asked by George II. > to whom ho 
should give the Archbishopric of York then vacant, replied, *' If 
thou hadst faith as a grain of mustard seed, thou wouldst say to this 
mountain" (pointiug to himself), '"Be thou removed, and be thou cast 
into the sea (see).' " 

h. The Writer once heard another felicitous application of the same 
idea, at a meeting of the Geological Society, at which Dr. Buckland. 



Relation of Wit and Humour, 499 

then Dean of "Westminster, had been speaking on a paper by Sir 
Eoderick Murchison, in which much stress was laid on the effects of 
"waves of translation," as carrying large blocks of stone onwards 
until their force was spent, when the blocks sank to the bottom. As 
the Dean sat down, a facetious member expressed the hope " that the 
Eight Eeverend gentleman might be speedily carried along by a wave 
of translation, and deposited in a sea (see) as good as that of hia 
predecessor," the Bishop of Oxford, who was sitting by his side. 

403. But in the higher form of Wit, the play is rather upon ideoi 
than upon words, the effect consisting in the peculiar felicity of 
the illustration ; as when Douglas Jerrold characterized c?o^matism 
as being puppyi^va full grown, — a remark most true and apposite 
in itself, while deriving a peculiar "point" from the unexpected- 
ness of the ideal relation developed between the two words, and 
from the ludicrous contrast between the real derivation of the 
first of them and the humorous one assigned to it. In repartees, 
the effect very often depends on the unexpectedness of the contrast 
between the idea conveyed by the original remark and that of the 
reply ; or by the happy turn given to the former, by which it is 
made to convey something very different from, perhaps quite 
contrary to, what the speaker intended. 

a. Of the first kind, the matter- of- factness of the Scotch mind fur- 
nishes many admirable illustrations, of which the following is per- 
haps one of the most characteristic : — During an agitation to put 
down Sunday trains between Edinburgh and Glasgow, a Minister in 
the latter city was accustomed to go down to the railway-station in 
the morning, and endeavour to dissuade any persons whom he knew 
from setting-off by the train then starting. Happening to encounter 
a lady of his congregation, who was going to spend the day with a 
relative at Falkirk, and having learned from her where she was going, 
he said, "You are not going to Falkirk, you are going to hell ; " to 
which she replied very composedly, "Well, anyhow, I have got a 
return -ticket." 

h. Of the second kind, a good example is offered by the ready 
answer given to a debater, who, addressing the adversary who 



500 Of Imagination. 



was to reply to him, somewhat magniloquently enounced, *'I want 
common sense; " to which the quiet rejoinder was, ** Exactly." The 
turn thus given was to the meaning of the word ** want; " which the 
speaker used as expressing his sense of its deficiency in his adversary, 
who neatly directed it against himself. 

404. These two examples, again, serve to illustrate the connection 
between Wit and Humour. Whilst the former, in its puritj is 
purely intellectual^ the latter, in its purity, has reference to the 
varieties of human character and the actions which proceed from 
them. But in a large number of cases, the two are commingled ; 
and the amusement we derive from their exercise often arises from 
the concomitant circumstances, or from the manner of utterance ; 
so that a joke which was felt to be admirable at the time, falls 
comparatively flat when repeated under other conditions. 

a. Thus, in the well-known reply made by Charles Lamb to Cole- 
ridge's question, ** Lamb, did you ever hear me preach?" " Why, I 
never heard you do anything else," — the effect is described by one who 
was present as having been most ludicrously heightened by the * grand 
manner" in which the question was asked by Coleridge, and the 
stammering utterance, ending in a kind of explosion, of his friend's 
witticism.. 

405. It may be affirmed, without hesitation, that the power of 
presenting the peculiar combinations and contrasts in which Wit 
consists, is purely automatic ; being one of which many persons, 
highly distinguished for general ability, and possessing a keen 
enjoyment of the good things said by others, are themselves 
entirely destitute. And all that the Will can do, as in other 
operations of the constructive Imagination, is to place the 
mind in the conditions most fiwourable for its exercise. Of such 
conditions, sympathetic appreciation undoubtedly ranks among 
the first. A brilliant talker, who, in congenial society, can give 
forth an unceasing succession of coruscations of Wit, like meteor- 
streams, feels the dulness of a set of matter-of-fact listeners as a 



Distinutve Character of Humour. 501 

Complete extinguisher of the internal glow from which the flashes 
emanate. — The power is doubtless capable of improvement by 
culture and exercise ; but it cannot be acquired by any one who 
has not a native capacity for it. — The following example, which 
recently presented itself within the Writer's own experience, is 
BO singularly illustrative of the contrast between the Volitional 
and the Automatic forms of Intellectual operation, that those 
who recognize the case tc which he alludes will excuse him for 
making it public : — 

a. *' A gentleman distinguished alike for his great and varied ability, 
for his faculty of scientific exposition, and for his conversational gifts, 
found himself the subject of a sudden failure of Intellectual power, 
the result of continued overstrain ; which manifested itself especially 
in the inability to keep up a continuous train of thought, such as was 
required in lecturing. Having determined at once to suspend his 
work and go abroad, he was dining with a few of his most intimate 
friends a few days before his departure ; and surprised them by the 
undiminished flow of his wit, and the readiness of his repartee. As 
one of them afterwards said to the writer, ' He never was mor^ 
brilliant.' " 

406. It would not be correct to say that Rumour is itself de- 
pendent upon the Imagination ; since what we term humorous may 
derive its character entirely from the oddity of the mode of expres- 
sion or action as it presents itself to ourselves. Dean Ramsay truly 
says of one of his good stories : — * The humour of the narrative is 
unquestionable, and yet no one has tried to be humorous ; the 
same idea differently expressed might have no point at all ;" as in 
the fo'lowing case : — 

a. * ' The Laird of Balnamoon, having dined at the house of a friend 
who by mistake had given him cherry brandy, instead of his usual 
beverage, port- wine, found himself more than ordinarily afi'ected by 
his liquor ; and while being driven home by his servant Harry in an 
open carriage, over an intervening moor, his unsteadiness of head 
caused his hat and wig to fall on the ground. Harry having got 



502 Of Imagination. 



down to pick them up, and having restored them to his master, the 
laird was satisfied with the hat, but demurred to the wig. * It's no 
my wig, Harry, lad; it's no my wig,' and refused to have anything 
to do with it. Harry lost his patience ; and, anxious to get home, 
romonstrated with his master, ' Ye'd better tak it, sir, for there's naft 
waile (choice) o' wigs on Munrimmon Moor.' This was a sin. pie 
matter-of-fact remark on the part of the servant ; and its humour 
consists in its contrast with the circumstances under which it was 
made, heightened by its quaint form of expression." 

407. But in all works of Imaginatiou which aim to present varieties 
of Human character, a power of ideally developing and combining 
Buch varieties is essential ; and without the sense of Humour, the 
portraiture wants warmth and reality. Of all great masters in the 
art of construction, Milton is the one who shows the least of this 
sense ; in fact, he scarcely seems to have possessed it at all. In 
Shakspere, on the other hand, Humour is redundant ; and every 
one of his humorous characters has an individuality of his (or her) 
own. Thus Falstaif will occur to every one as the very incarnation 
of Humour, with no small addition of Wit ; while Dogberry and 
Verges, Bottom and Snug, with the whole series of Clowns and 
Jesters, no one of whom is a repetition of another, bespeak the 
wonderful acuteness of his discriminative observation, the readiness 
with which his memory reproduced its stores, and the sympathy 
which his own many-sided nature possessed with every phase 
of Humour delineated. In those of Sir Walter Scott's novels 
in which the scenes and characters are those of his own country, 
we find abundant examples of the richest Humour ; every one 
of which seems either to have had an individual prototype, or to 
have been a generalised form derived from a variety of sources, 
Thus the Baron of Bradwardine, the Antiquary, Paulus Pleydell, 
Dominie Sampson, Mause and Cuddie Headrigg, Meg Dods, and a 
number of others, are felt by those who are well acquainted with the 
Scottish life of the past to be so intensely natural, that every one 
of them might have been a real character. And the same is t)-u0 



Genms and Ingenuity, 503 

of the best of Dickens's and of Thackeray's imaginary constructions j 
in which these great Humourists have so completely identified 
themselves, as it were, with the several types they delineated, aa 
to make each of them speak and act as he (or she) would have 
done in actual life. It is certain, indeed, that most of these (as 
in Walter Scott's case) are developments of actual types j while 
those which are purely ideal — the work of the creative rather than 
of the constructive Imagination — lack " flesh-aud-blood " reality. 

408. The exercise of the creative Imagination involves that peculiar 
quality of mind which we distinguish as Genius ; — a special gift of 
which no definite account can be given, the possessor of it not 
being himself able either to trace its origin, or to describe (save as 
regards its external conditions) its mode of working. Although 
this term is often applied to superior Intellectual power of any 
kind, yet it may certainly be most appropriately limited to that of 
which invention^ origination^ or insight is the distinctive charac- 
teristic, and of which the products bear the well-marked stamp ol 
individuality. Working upon the materials it derives from obser- 
vation and reflection. Creative genius not merely developes and 
recombines these, but evolves products altogether new, beyond the 
scope of the reasoning power, and deriving their value from their 
expression of a higher truth than is at the time attainable in any 
other way. When Dr. Channing, in discoursing of Poetry, said 
that " Genius is not a creator, in the sense of fancying or feigning 
what does not exist : its distinction is, to discern more of Truth 
than ordinary minds,'" he himself uttered a truth of which the 
profundity and generality bear the stamp of true genius ; for it 
is equally applicable to every exercise of the highest form of 
creative imagination. Its lower form may be distinguished aa 
Ingenuity;'* the products of which may either be ahogether worth- 
less, or may approach those of true genius. 

* Although this word is now commonly used with reference chiefly tc Mechanical 
luvention, yet it was often applied by the older writers to Poets and Advocatea. 



5 04 Of Imagination. 



a. A typical example of the difference between Ingenuity and true 
Oenius is afforded by the contrast between Kepler and Newton. 
Strongly impressed with the belief that some *' harmonic" relation 
must exist among the distances of the several Planets from the Sun, 
and also among the respective times of their revolution, Kepler 
passed a large part of his early life in working out a series of guesses 
at this relation ; some of which now strike us as not merely most 
improbable, but positively ridiculous. His single-minded devotion 
to Truth, however, led him to abandon each of these hypothesen in 
its turn, so soon as he had proved its fallacy by submitting it to the 
test of its conformity to observed facts ; while his fertile Ingenuitj 
furnished him with a continual supply of new guesses, which pre- 
sented themselves in turn as creations of his Imagination, to bo 
successively dismissed when they proved to be nothing else than 
imaginary. But he was at last rewarded by the discovery of that 
relation between the times and the distances of the Planetary revolu- 
tions, which, with the discovery of the ellipticity of the orbits, and of 
the passage of the *' radius vector" over equal areas in equal times, has 
given him immortality as an Astronomical discoverer. But these 
discoveries cannot be regarded as based on any higher Mental attri- 
bute than persevering ingenuity ; for so far was he from divining the 
true rationale of the planetary revolutions, that we learn from his 
own honest confessions that he was led to the discovery of the elliptic 
orbit of Mars by a series of happy accidents, which turned his 
erroneous guesses into a right direction, and to that of the ''equal 
areas" by the notion of whirling force emanating from the Sun; whilst 
his discovery of the relation between the times and distances was the 
fortunate guess which closed a long series of wwfortunate ones, many 
of which were no less " ingenious." — Now it was by a grand exertion 
of Newton's constructive imagination, based on his wonderful mastery 
of Geometrical reasoning, that, starting with the conception of two 
forces, one of them tending to produce continuous uniform motion in 
a otraight line, the other tending to produce a uniformly-accelerated 
motion towards a fixed point, he was able to show that if these 

We speai even now of an "ingenious argument," when we have in view rather fch« 
skill with which it is conducted, than the truth it is to support ; in fact, our 
axlniiration is sometimes most called forth by the Ingenuity which is exei'ted tfl 
BiLStain a position we regard as untenabJe. 



J 



Creative Imagination in Science. 505 

dynamical assumptions be granted, Kepler's phenomenal ** laws,'* 
being necessary consequences of them, must be universally true. 
And while that demonstration would have been alone sufficient to 
give him an imperishable renown, it was his still greater glory to 
divine the profound truth, that the fall of the Moon towards the 
Earth — that is, the deflection of her path from a tangential line to an 
bllipse — is a phenomenon of the same order as the fall of a stone to the 
ground ; and thus to show that the mutual attraction of all masses of 
matter which we call Gravitation, pervades the whole Universe, 
and everywhere follows the same Law. 

The grand scieutific Truth thus divined by the *' insight" of 
Newton, was at once proved to be such, not only by its conformity 
with all the phenonema of Nature then known, but by the power 
which it furnished of predicting phenomena as yet undiscovered — 
such as the " perturbations " produced by the mutual attractions 
of the Planets. 

409. In the provinces of ^Esthetics and Morals, however, the 
test of the Truths brought to light by real Genius lies not in the 
confirmation of them by reasoning processes, but in that conformity 
to our own highest Nature^ which enables us to recognise them by 
" direct apprehension." In this way, it has been well said, a great 
Moral or Religious Teacher, who first proclaims truths which we feel 
to be of universal applicability, " reveals us to ourselves." And 
the Poet who, as Dr. Channing says of Wordsworth, " sees under 
disguises and humble forms everlasting beauty," and makes us 
conscious of the loveliness of the primitive feelings which constitute 
the universal affections of Humanity, strikes chords to which our 
own hearts instinctively respond. It is the undoubted attribute of 
real Genius, that the Intellectual Truth, the Moral Power, or the 
Artistic Beauty of its conceptions ultimately gains the recognition 
of such as seek the highest good in either pursuit. That recog- 
nition may not be immediate, oecause the advance upon the 
previous culture may have been too sudden. But all really great 
Thought tends to elevate Human nature to its own level ; and 



5 o6 Of Imagination. 



the Philosophers, the Prophets, and the Poets, whom we now 
venerate as the noblest benefactors of our Race, have earned theii 
claim to that distinction, not by bringing to us messages from 
other spheres which they alone were privileged to visit, but by 
enunciating Truths which our expanded Intellect accepts as self 
evident, by proclaiming great Principles which our deepene<i 
insight perceives to constitute the basis of all Morality, by creating 
forms of Beauty to which our heightened and purified sense looks 
up as standards of Ideal perfection. And this could not be, unless 
the intuitions of Genius call forth echoes from the depths of our 
own souls; awaking dormant faculties, which can apprehend if 
they cannot create, which can respond if they cannot originate. 
The " Principia " of Newton, unintelligible to the great mass of 
his most learned contemporaries, are now the A B C of the student 
of the higher Mathematics. The dramas of Shakspere, appreciated 
by the theatre-goers of his day only for the pleasure to be derived 
from their poetry and their action, are now read and pondered by 
every student of Human Nature as the embodiment of the pro- 
foundest and most universal knowledge. And the grand Symphony 
of Beethoven, which was laid aside as incomprehensible by the moot 
cultivated Musicians of his time, is now the delight, not alone of 
the select few, but of the many whom the more advanced culture 
of the present generation has made capable of appreciating a great 
work of Musical art. 

410. It cannot be questioned by any one who carefully considers 
the subject under the light of adequate knowledge,* that the creative 

*■ To represent Science and Poetry as antagonistic, and to maintain (as Mr. 
Raskin continually does) that the Poet sees into Nature both more, deeplij and 
more truly than the Scientific inquirer, simply shows this able writer's ignorauc€ 
of what science really is. The Truths which the man of Science and the Po<5i 
respectieely discover, are of different orders, but cannot be antagonistic. And if 
Mr. Ruskin would acquaint himself with the methods and results of Spectrum 
Analysis, he would find that the strictest scientific reasoning has led to the 
discovery of truths which the boldest imagination of the Poet would scarcely have 
eonceived, and which his profoundest insight could not possibly have discerned. 



Creative I machination in Art. 507 

Jniagination is exercised in at least as high a degree in Science, as 
it is in Art or in Poetr7. Even in the strictest of Sciences — Mathe- 
matics — it can be easily sliown that no really great advance, such 
as the invention of Fluxions by Newton, and of the Differential 
(Calculus by Leibnitz — can be made, without the exercise of 
the Imagination ; and it is interesting to observe that whilst the 
fundamental idea of both systems had been long pondered over 
by previous thinkers, it was reserved for the genius of Newton 
and Leibnitz to divine the two modes of realising and applying it, 
the introduction of which marks the most important era in the 
modern history of the science.* — Not less conspicuous evidence of 
the exercise of this faculty is presented in the highest forms of 
Mechanical invention. Some of the greatest triumphs of modern 
ingenuity, however, have been the products rather of the con- 
structive than of the creative imagination. Thus the Steam-engine 
of Newcomen was developed into the Steam-engine of Watt by a 
succession of steps, each of which was to a certain degree suggestive 
of the next ; and it would perhaps not be incorrect to affirm that 
the genius of Watt was more displayed in his invention of the 
" governor," than in any other part of the wonderful mechanism he 
devised. 

When the complete Double-action Steam-engine, with its heavy 
fly-wheel, was employed for the execution of any work which was 
variable in regard to the resistance to be overcome, it became 
apparent that some means must be found of adjusting the force 
of the engine to that variation ; since, if the engine were suddenly 
roUeved of any large part of that resistance, and were still driven bj 
the same quantity and pressure of steam, its velocity would imme 
iiately be accelerated to an injurious and perhaps dangerous extent- 

* An eLqueut defence of Mathematical Science from the charge of cramping 
the exercise of the Imag' nation, was made a few years since by Professor Sylvester 
^whose own contributions to it have been eminently marked by the exhibition of 
this faculty), in his address as President of the Mathematical !rection of the 
British AsBociation. See " Nature," vol. I., p. 238. 



5 o8 Of Imagination. 



Watt, therefore, set himself to devise for his engine some means of 
self-regulation ; and sought it in an entirely new direction — the 
application of centrifugal force. The "governor" consists of a pair 
of heavy balls, which are so fixed to a vertical spindle as to revolve 
with, it, and to diverge from one another in proportion to its rate of 
revolution, which depends on that of the fly-wheel. This divergence, 
by a system of levers, acts on a throttle-valve in the steam-pipe ; 
and thus, whenever a diminution in the work of the engine causes the 
fly-wheel to revolve more rapidly, the divergence of the balls reduces 
the quantity of steam admitted to the cylinder, so as to keep 
the power proportional to the resistance ; whilst, on the other hand, 
when more work is thrown on the engine, the diminished rate of the 
fly-wheel causes the balls to approach each other, so as to open the 
throttle-valve and admit more steam to do it. The great beauty of 
this invention, beyond its perfect adaptation to the required purpose, 
consists in its utilisation of the very Force which constitutes the source 
of danger. For it has several times happened that where the 
*' governor" has been accidentally out of gear, the fly-wheel of the 
engine has revolved so rapidly, when work was taken off, as to break 
in pieces by its own centrifugal force ; the pieces flying apart, and 
causing loss of life and destruction of property. 

The Steam- Hammer of Nasmyth may be cited as a more recent 
product of creative Imagination ; and it is worthy of note that 
its inventor is the son of a distinguished Artist, and himself 
strongly partakes of the Artistic temperament. 

411. In the domain of Art, the creative Imagination shows itself 
in the production of ideal representations, whose grandeur and 
beauty transcend all actual experience, and which appeal to our 
most refined sensibilities, our most elevated emotions. As typical 
examples of such creations, no one who is capable of what is truly 
great in Art would hesitate in naming the finest Madonnas of 
Raffaelle, and the best Landscapes of Turner, the Venus of Milo, and 
the Theseus or the Apollo Belvedere. In each of these glorious works, M 
the mens divinior most clearly displays itself to all whose own nature 
is capable of discerning it j and, as already remarked, it is their 



Creative Imagination in Art. 509 

noble prerogative to raise the nature of such as cultivate the 
appreciation of them. — Lastly, in the domain of Poetry, few would 
hesitate in ascribing the highest measure of creative powir to 
Shakspere ; who possessed, in an unrivalled degree, the power of 
idealising every type of humanity which he brought before our 
mental vision ; and in so doing displayed to us the working of 
every variety of character, with a fundamental truth which makes 
his delineations represent, not the men or women of any particular 
time or place, but those of all time and every place ; — his marvellous 
insight enabling us to see them in his pages more truly than if 
they were actually performing their several parts in the world's 
drama before our own eyes. 

412. If, now, W6 mquire into the mode in which Genius works, 
we find ourselves baffled at the outset by the slightness of our 
materials ; since no one who is unpossessed of the creative 
Imagination can study its mode of operation in himself, while those 
who do possess it are seldom given to self-analysis. This much, 
however, is very clear : — that from whatever source the creative 
power of Genius is derived, it is capable of being improved by 
culture ; and that in its highest exercise it is directed by knowledge 
acquired by study, and disciplined by judgment based on extended 
experience. As was well said by Sir Joshua Reynolds in one of his 
Discourses, "it is by being conversant with the inventions of 
others, that we learn to invent, as by reading the thoughts of others 
we learn to think. It is in vain for Painters or Poets to endeavoui 
to invent, without materials on which the mind may work, and from 
which inventions must originate. Nothing can come of nothing. 
Homer is supposed to have been possessed of all the learning of his 
time ; and we are certain thd-t Michael Angelo and liaifaelle wei"*" 
equally possessed of all the knowledge in the art, which had been 
discovered in the works of their predecessors." The same is un- 
doubtedly true of Handel, Mozart, Beethoven, and all other great 
Musical inventors. — Another condition, essential to the exercise of 



5 1 o Of Imagination. 

Genius, is the power of fixing the attention on the object to be at- 
tained ; and this power may be exerted, as ah-eady shown (Chap. III.), 
either automatically or volitional^/. With some inventors, the 
interest of the subject on which their minds may be engaged 
is so absorbing, that they can with difficulty be drawn off from it ; 
Vrith others, the fixation of the attention can only be sustained by 
a determined effort. When Newton was asked how he attained hia 
grand results, he replied, "By always thinking about them." But 
even " always thinking about them " might not have enabled any 
other mind than Newton's to arrive at them. A somewhat parallel 
case is afforded by Wordsworth ; who has himself given us such an 
insight into his mode of working, as distinctly marks the dependence 
of his creative power upon continued meditation on the great 
themes he had set before himself, and, at the same time, upon the 
influences surrounding him, alike in his daily life, and during his 
meditative moods. Still, neither reflection nor the influences of 
Nature could have made Wordsworth a poet ; and we can only 
attribute the faculty he possessed to an inborn gift, the working of 
which is essentially automatic. And it will be shown in the next 
chapter that there is strong reason to regard this automatic opera- 
tion as often carried on beneath the consciousness, by a mechanism 
which the Will may bring into action, but of which it thenceforth 
loses the control. This automatic action of Genius, originally 
prompted volitionally, is thus distinctly set forth by Wordswoi'th 
himself : — 

The poems in these volumes (the " Lyrical Ballads ") will he 
found distinguished by this — that each of them has a woithy purpose. 
Not that I always began to write with a distinct purpose formally 
conceived ; but habits of meditation have, I trust, so prompted and 
regulated my feelings, that my descriptions of such objects as strongly 
excite those feelings will be found to carry along with them a purpose. 
If this opinion be erroneous, I can have little right to the name of a 
Poet. For all good poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful 
feelings ; and though this be true, poems to which any value can be 



Influence of the Will on Imagination. 5 T i 

ftttaclied were never produced on any variety of subjects but by a 
man who, being possessed of more tlian usual organic sensibility, baa 
also thought long and deeply. For our continued influxes of feeling 
are modified and directed by our thoughts, which are, indeed, the 
repTssentatives of all our past feelings ; and as, by contemplating the 
relation of these general representatives to each other, we discover 
what is really important to men, so by the repetition and continuance 
of this act, our feelings will be connected with important subjects ; 
till at length, if we be originally possessed of much sensibility, such 
habits of m.ind will be produced, that, hy obeying Mindly and 
mechanically the impulses of those hahits, we shall describe objects, and 
utter sentiments, of such a nature, and in such connection with each 
other, that the understanding of the reader must necessarily be in 
some degree enlightened, and his affections strengthened and purified. 

That power which was thus acquired by Wordsworth, as the result 
of self-discipline, may be almost certainly said to have been original 
U'ith Shakspere, the type of the Poet " of imagination all compact," 
whose instinctive genius seems to have been alone sufficient, with 
the aid of his large general culture, to enable him to find the solu- 
tion of those problems in Human Nature, which Wordsworth set 
himself purposively and patiently to unravel. — A somewhat parallel 
contrast has been already drawn (§§ 232, 234) between the pure 
pontaneity of Mozart's creative genius, originally cultured by 
igorous training, and the painstaking manner in which Haydn, 
hroughout his whole life, applied himself to Musical Composition. 
413. Thus, then, we are able to arrive at a pretty clear understand- 
ng of what the Will can, and what it cannot do, in regard to the 
isercise of the Imagination. As already pointed out, the Will can 
iO more reproduce images which are not actually before the con- 
oousness, than it can recall a word or a fact which has faded from 
;l.e Memory. It can only select from the ideas which spontaneously 
)resent themselves, those which are most suitable to the object in 

I dew ; and, intensifying these by fixing the attention upon them, it 
Ian use them (so to speak) as " feelers " for others, — ^just as when we 
37 



5 1 2 Of hnagijiation. 



try to recollect something that has been forgotten, by dwelling 
on the idea most likely to suggest it (§§ 370-374). Then, again, 
the Will can exercise a most important control over the Imagina- 
tion, by withdrawing the Attention from ideas which the Judgment, 
guided and chastened by the habitual direction of the thoughts t» 
pure and noble objects, rejects as degrading and unseemly. And it 
is for want of such control, that some of those Poets and Prose 
writers who show the strongest evidences of genius, let their ima- 
gination run riot in scenes of impurity, and use their gifts t© 
deprave the Taste and confuse the Moral sense of their readers.* 

414. Thus, although the work of the Imagination is itself purely 
automatic, yet the Will can both set it going and keep it going by 
the fixation of the attention ; it can in great degree guide its 
activity ; and it has (in the well-balanced mind) an entire control 
over its results, so far as regards the expression of them. In fact, 
there is no part of our Intellectual nature, to which the simile oi 
the relation of the horse and his rider (§ 24) is more exactly 
applicable. — But indirectly the Will may do a great deal to improve 
the action of the Imagination, by the culture and discipline to 
which it subjects the general activity of the Mind. For there can 
be no doubt that the automatic succession of our Ideas and Feelings 
is greatly influenced by the direction we voluntarily give to them ; 
BO that the imaginative creations of the Poet or the Artist show 
the impress of the habitual tone of his thoughts; while the inventive 
powerof the Scientific discoverer mainly depends upon the thorough- 
ness of the grasp of his subject, which he has attained by his 
previous study of it. Further, the development given to the 
primary Idea will in great degree depend upon the constructive 

* The disciples of what has been recently termed the "fleshly school " of 
Poetry, adopting the theory that all passions, however gross, are fitting subjects 
for it, because they are Human, push that theory to the extent of endeavouring 
fco glorify the merely animal lust by vivid descriptions of its unrestrained 
exercise ; instead of, like Shakspere, pourtraying it in such a manner as to bring 
iato strong relief the superior beauty of pure love. 



Volitional Ctdture of the Imagination, 513 

power which has been acquired bj systematic training : thus, the 
Painter or Sculptor must have mastered both the principles and 
practice of his art, before he can produce any really great work ; 
and the Musician must have diligently applied himself to the 
study of counterpoint and instrumentation, in order to be able to 
give the fullest expression to his Ideas. In these modes, then, 
the Imaginative faculty may be directed and invigorated, culti- 
vated and chastened, by Volitional effort ; while its j^roductiveness 
depends essentially on its own inherent fertility, and on the energy 
of its automatic action (§§ 232, 397). 

415. Before quitting the subject of the Imagination, it may be 
well to remark, that although no one can acquire (if he has it not 
in his original constitution) the creative power of Genius, yet 
every one can train himself to appreciate its products; his capacity 
for such appreciation growing and intensifying in proportion as 
it is exercised aright. The more we fix our attention on the 
highest ideals of Art, and withdraw ourselves from the influence 
of those lower forms of it which in any way connect themselves 
with the grosser parts of our nature (§ 413, note), the stronger 
will be the intuitive preference we shall acquire for what is noble 
and elevating, the more thorough our intuitive distaste for all that 
is mean and degrading. And a truly great work of Art not only 
commands the admiration of such as are already capable of ap- 
preciating its excellence, and contributes to form the taste of that 
much larger number whose dormant capacity for the enjoyment 
of it needs only to be called forth and rightly directed ; but tends 
to develope in successive generations an ever-increasing capacity 
for such enjoyment, which will thus add largely to the happiness 
of the Race. 

Thus there can be no doubt that the enjoyment which all persons 
of cultivated taste now feel in the Picturesque, is a growth of 
modern times ; its germ having been furnished (as the very word 
implies) by that perception of the beautiful in landscape-scenery, 



514 Of Imagination. 



whicli first began to show Itself in the works of Painters scarcely 
three centuries ago. Not many generations back, Switzerland, now 
"the playground of Europe," was regarded but as a rugged and 
toilsome pass, that had to be surmounted by the traveller who desired 
to find his way to "sunny Italy;" and the reply given to the 
Writer by a domestic of average intelligence, who had been visiting 
Tintern Abbey, "Yes, it's very pretty; but what a pity it's in 
ruins ! " would have expressed the general sentiment of the educated 
public. 

That even the least cultivated, however, may have real apprecia- 
tion for Pictures which express a high ideal of Humanity, appears from 
the marked preference shown for the best works of this class in the 
collection of Sir Eichard Wallace, during its exhibition at the 
Bethnal Green Museum. — " Who Would not try to be a good woman, 
who had such a child as that?" was the spontaneous utterance of a 
female of the artizan class, who had been gazing intently at one of 
the beautiful representations by Murillo of the Infant Jesus in t?ic 
arins of Lie Mother. 



CHAFTEll XIII 

OF UNCONSCIOUS CEREBRATION. 

416. Having thus found reason to conclude that a large part of 
our Intellectual activity — whether it consist in Reasoning processes, 
or in the exercise of the Imagination — is essentially automatic, and 
may be described in Physiological language as the reflex action of 
the Cerebrum, we have next to consider whether this action may not 
take place unconsciously^ To affirm that the Cerebrum may act upon 
impressions transmitted to it, and may elaborate Intellectual results, 
such as we might have attained by the intentional direction of our 
minds to the subject, without any consciousness on our own parts, 
is held by many Metaphysicians, more especially in Britain, to be an 
altogether untenable and even a most objectionable doctrine. But 
this affirmation is only the Physiological expression of a doctrine 
which has been current among the Metaphysicians of Germany, from 
the time of Leibnitz to the present date, and which was systemati- 
cally expounded by Sir William Hamilton, — that the Mind may 
undergo modifications, sometimes of very considerable importance, 
without being itself conscious of the process, until its results present 
themselves to the consciousness, in the new ideas, or new combi- 
nations of ideas, which the process has evolved. This "Unconscioua 
Cerebration," or "Latent Mental modification," is the precise 
parallel, in the higher sphere of Cerebral or Mental activity, to the 
movements of our limbs, and to the direction of those movements 
through our visual sense, which we put in train volitionally 
when we set out on some habitually-repeated walk, but which 
then proceed not only automatically, but unconsciously, so long aa 
our attention continues to be uninterruptedly diverted from them. 



5 1 6 Of Unconscious Cerebration, 

(§ 16). And it was by reflection on this parallelism, and on the 
peculiar structural relation of the Cerebrum to the Ganglionic tract 
which seems to constitute the Sensorium or centre of conscious- 
ness, alike for the external and for the internal senses (§ 100), that 
the Writer was led (in ignorance of the teachings both of Germar. 
Metaphysicians, and of Sir William Hamilton, whose lectures 
had not at that time been published) to the idea that Cerebral 
changes may take place unconsciously, if the Sensorium be either in 
a state of absolute torpor, or be for a time non-receptive as regards 
those changes, its activity being exerted in some other direction ; or, 
to express the same fact Psychologically, that mental (?) changes, 
of whose results we subsequently become conscious, may go on helow 
the plane of consciousness, either during profound sleep, or while 
the attention is wholly engrossed by some entirely different train 
of thought.* 

417. To the Writer it seems a matter of no practical conse- 
quence, whether the doctrine be stated in terms of Metaphysics 
or in terms of Physiology — in terms of mind, or in terms of 
hrain, — provided it be recognised as having a positive scientific 
basis. But since, in the systems of Philosophy long prevalent in 
this country, consciousness has been almost uniformly taken as the . 
basis of all strictly mental activity, it seems convenient to designate 
as Functions of the Nervous System all those operations which lie 

* Subsequently to the first publication of his views on this subject (in the 
fourth edition of his "Human Physiologj'','" 1852) the Author learned from his 
friend, Dr. Lay cock, to whose Essay on the '* Reflex Action of the Brain " he has 
already referred (§ 94 note) as a most important contribution to Mental 
Pliysiology, that he had fully intended to convey the idea that such leflex action 
might be unconscious. As no distinct statement was made to that effect, and aa 
all Dr. Laycock's illustrative examples were of a kind in which consciousness wai 
involved, the Writer may be excused for having — in common with others who were 
following the same line of enquiry — failed to apprehend Dr. Laycock's meaning on 
this point. But he willingly accepts Dr. Laycock's statement of it : and now re- 
Btates the grounds on which he himself independently arrived at the same con- 
clusion, simply as justifying the claim which the question has to a thoi'oujjk 
re -consideration on the part of British Metaphysicians. 



Reflex Action of the Cerebi^um. 5 1 7 

below that level. And there is this advantage in approaching the 
subject from the Physiological side, — that the study of the auto- 
matic actions of other parts of the Nervous System furnishes a 
clue, by the guidance of -^hich we may be led to the scientific 
elucidation of many phenomena that would otherwise remain obscure 
and meaningless. For, as we have seen, each of the ]Servou8 
centres has an independent "reflex" activity of its own, sometimes 
" primary" or " original," sometimes " secondary" or "acquired ;" 
while our consciousjiess of its exercise depends upon the impression 
which it makes upon the Sensorium, which is the insti-nment alike 
of the external and of the internal senses. Looking, therefore, 
at all the automatic operations of the Mind in the light of " reflex 
actions" of the Cerebrum, there is no more difficulty in com- 
prehending that such reflex actions may proceed without our 
cognizance, — their results being evolved as intellectual products, 
when we become conscious of the impressions transmitted along the 
"nerves of the intei-nal senses" from the Cerebrum to the Senso- 
rium, — than there is in understanding that impressions may excite 
muscular movements through the " reflex" power of the Spinal Cord 
without the necessary intervention of sensation (§ 6S). In both 
cases, the condition of this mode of unconscious operation is, that 
the receptivity of the Sensorium shall be suspended quoad the 
changes in question ; either by its own functional inactivity, 
or through its temporary engrossment by other impressions. 
— It is difficult to find an appropriate term for this class of 
operations. Tiiey can scarcely be designated as Reasoning pro- 
cesses, since "unconscious reasoning" seem:s a contradiction in 
terms. The designation unconscious cerebration is perhaps as 
unobjectionable as any other, and has been found readily in- 
tcUigible. (See § 42S.) 

418. The following passages from Sir WilUam Hamilton's 
Lectures will show the aspect in which this subject presented itself 
to a pure ^letaphysician : — 



5 i 8 Of Unconsciotcs Cerebration. 

*' Are there, in ordinary, Mental modifications — i.e. Mental acti- 
vities and passivities — of which we are unconscious, but which manifest 
their existence by effects of which we are conscious ? 

*' I do not hesitate to affirm that what we are conscious of is con- 
etructed out of what we are not conscious of; — that our whole know- 
ledge, in fact, is made up of the unknown and the incognisable. . . 
There are many things which we neither know nor can know in them- 
selves, but which manifest their existence indirectly through the 
medium of their efi'ects. This is the case with the Mental modifi- 
cations in question: they are not in themselves revealed to Con- 
sciousness ; but as certain facts of Consciousness necessarily suppose 
them to exist, and to exert an influence on the mental processes, we 
are thus constrained to admit, as Modifications of Mind, what are no^ 
phenomena of Consciousness. 

** Consciousness cannot exist independently of some peculiar modi- 
fication of Mind. We are only conscious, as we are conscious of a de- 
terminate state or Mental modification, the existence of which supposes 
a change or transition from some other state or modification. But as 
the modification must be present before we have a consciousness of it, 
we can have no consciousness of its rise or awakening, for this is also 
the rise or awakening of consciousness. — [Lectures, Yol.i.,pp. 348, 349.) 

"To Leibnitz belongs the honour of originating this opinion, and 
of having supplied some of the strongest arguments in its support. 
He was, however, unfortunate in the terms which he employed to 
propound his doctrine. The latent modifications — the unconscious 
activities of mind — he denominated ' obscure ideas,' * obscure repre- 
sentations,' ' perceptions without apperception or consciousness,' 
' insensible perceptions,' &c. In this he violated the universal use 
of language. For perception, and idea, and representation all properly 
involve the notion of consciousness ; — it being, in fact, contradictory to 
speak of a representation not actually represented — a perception not 
really perceived — an actual idea of whose presence we are not aware. 
It has been in consequence of this misuse of terms, that the Leibnitzian 
doctrine has not been more generally adopted ; and that, in France 
and in Britain, succeeding philosophers have admitted as an almost 
Belf-evident truth, that there can be no modification of mind devoid 
of consciousness. As to any refutation of the Leibnitzian doctrine 
I know of none."— (Op. cit. p. 262.) 



1 



Leibnitz and Sir William Hamilton, 519 

Mr. J. S. Mill, however, while fully accepting Sir William Hamil- 
ton's statement as to the facts on which his doctrine of '* Mental 
Latency" is baaed, objects to his mode of expressing them as 
no less eri'oneous than that of Leibnitz : considering " unconscious 
mental modification" as a contradiction in terras ; and attributing 
the phenomena to unrecognized changes in the substance of tho 
Brain, which he regards as the constant physical antecedents of 
mental modifications, — thus explicitly accepting the doctrine of 
"unconscious cerebration." * 

419. A very apposite example of this form of activity is afforded 
by a phenomenon, which, although familiar to every one who takes 
note of the workings of his own mind, has been scarcely recognised 
by Metaphysical inquirers ; namely, that when we have been trying 
to recollect (§ 373) some name, phrase, occurrence, &c., — and, after 
vainly employing all the expedients we can think-of for bringing 
the desiderated idea to our minds, have abandoned the attempt as 
useless, — it will often occur spontaneously a little while afterwards, 
suddenly flashing (as it were) into our consciousness, either when 
we are thinking of something altogether different, or on awaking 
out of profound slee[). — Now it is important to note, in the first 
case, that the Mind may have been entirely engrossed in the 
mean time by some entirely different subject of contemplation, 
and that we cannot detect any link of association whereby 
the result has been obtained, notwithstanding that the whole 
"train of thought" which has passed through the mind in the 
interval may be most distinctly remembered ; and, in tlie 
gecond, that the missing idea seems more likely to present itself 
when the sleep has been profound, than when it has been dis- 
turbed. The first form of the phenomenon has been thus admiraliy 
described by Miss Cobbe : — 

" It is an every-day occurrence to most of us to forget a paiticula/ 

♦ See his Examination of Sir William HamiltorCs Philosophy^ chap xv. 



520 Of Unconscious Cerebration, 



word, or a line of poetry, and to remember it some hours later, when 
we have ceased consciously to seek for it. We try, perhaps anxiously, 
at first to recover it, well aware that it lies somewhere hidden in our 
memory, but unable to seize it. As the saying is, we * ransack our 
brains for it,* but, failing to find it, we at last turn our attention to 
other matters. By-and-bye, when, so far as consciousness goes, our 
whole minds are absorbed in a different topic, we exclaim, ' Eureka I 
the word or verse is so-and-so.' So familiar is this phenomenon, 
that we are accustomed in similar straits to say, * Never mind ; I 
shall think of the missing word by-and-bye, when I am attending to 
something else ' ; and we deliberately turn away, not intending finally 
to abandon the pursuit, but precisely as if we were possessed of an 
obedient secretary or librarian, whom we could order to hunt up a 
missing document, or turn out a word in a dictionary, while wo 
amused ourselves with something else. The more this common 
phenomenon is studied, the niore I think the observer of his own 
mental processes will be obliged to concede, that, so far as his own 
conscious self is concerned, the research is made absolutely witliout 
him. He has neither pain, nor pleasure, nor sense of labour in the 
task, any more than if it were performed by somebody else ; and hia 
conscious self is all the time suffering, enjoying, or labouring on 
totally different grounds." — - [Macmillan's Magazine, November, 
1870, p. 25.) 

So says also Oliver Wendell Holmes : — 

** We wish to remember something in the course of conversation. 
No effort of the will can reach it ; but we say, ' Wait a minute, and 
it will come to me,' and go on talking. Presently, perhaps, some 
minutes later, the idea we are in search of comes all at once into the 
mind, delivered like a prepaid parcel laid at the door of consciousness, 
like a foundling in a basket. How it came there, we know not. The 
mind must have been at work, groping and feeling for it in the dark ; 
it cannot have come of itself. Yet, all the while, our consciousness, 
90 far IS we are conscious of our consciousness, was busy with othei 
thoughts." — [Mechanism in Thought and Morals, p. 43.) 

4:20. So frequently has this occurred within the Writer's experi 
once, that he is now in the habit of trusting to this method of reool 



Recovery oj Lost Ideas, 52 1 

lection, where he has reason to feel sure that the desired idea ia 
not far oflf, if the mind can only find its track ; — as when it relates to 
Bome occurrence (such as a payment of money, or meeting with a 
person whose face is familiar to him, but whose name he cannot 
recall) which he knows to have taken place within a few days 
previously. For he has found himself much more certain of 
recovering it, by withdrawing his mind from the search when it is 
not speedily successful, and by giving himself up to the occupation 
appropriate to the time, than by inducing fatigue by unsuccessful 
efforts. And this is not his own experience only, but that of many 
others. The fact has been noticed by Sir H. Holland ; * from 
whom he has learned that the above plan has been put into 
successful action by many to whom he had recommended it. By 
Sir Henry, however, the success was regarded as due simply to the 
refreshment which the mind has received by change of thought : 
but the considerations to be presently adduced seem to justify the 
belief, that the train of action, which we volitionally set going in 
the Cerebrum in the first instance, continues to work by itself after 
our attention has been fixed upon some other object of thought ; so 
';hat it goes on to the evolution of its result, not only without any 
continued exertion on our own parts, but also without our con- 
sciousness of any continued activity. The advantage of thus detach- 
ing our attention from it seems to be, that it runs on undisturbed by 
our fruitless and distracting attempts ; just as, to use Miss Cobbe'a 
happy illustration, our "obedient secretary " is more likely to find 
what we want, when we leave him to search for it in his own way, 
instead of worrying him with continual directions to look in this, 
that, or the other place. 

421. The following circumstance, mentioned by Mr. Macgregor 
in his " Thousand Miles in the Rob Roy Canoe," is a good example 
of this automatic reproduction of a lost idea, after the will had 
tearched for it in vain : — 

* *' Chapters on Mental Physiology,'" p. 66. 



52 2 Of Unconscious Cerebration, 

When on the Meurthe, he saw three women on the bank of the 
river, in great alarm, who searched in vain for two boys supposed to 
have gone away to fish, but missing for many hours. They eagerly 
asked Mr. Macgregor to tell them whether he had seen them, and 
implored him with tears to advise them what to do. '* I tried," he 
Bays, *• all I could to recollect ; but no, I had not seen the boys ; and 
BO the women went away distracted, and left me sorrowful. But 
suddenly, wlien toiling in the middle of a very difficult piece of rock- 
work, lowering the boat (and therefore no longer trying to rememher)^ 
I remembered having seen those boys, so I ran over the fields after 
the anxious mamma, and soon assured her that the children had been 
Bafe an hour ago." 

422. Another instance, which has been kindly communicated to 
the Writer (with others to be cited hereafter, § 435) by a Graduate 
of the University of London, as having occurred to himself, is 
interesting from the evidence it afibrds that the automatic repro- 
duction of the lost impression is a matter of time ; the process 
having apparently not been completed, so as to produce the recog- 
nition by the mind of the desiderated name, when it was first 
presented to the et/e : — 

** One day I was summoned to a Town at some distance, to see a 
friend lying dangerously ill at a Physician's house. While in the 
railway-train, I found that I could not remember either the name of 
the Physician or his address. I vainly endeavoured to recall them. 
I became much excited ; but bethought me that if I consulted a Post 
Office Directory, I should see and recognize the name. I consulted 
the Directory on reaching the hotel, but the name seemed not to be 
there. Soon after, while I was ordering some refreshment, the name 
flashed on my consciousness. I left the astounded waiter, rushed to 
the Directory, and there saw the name ; and what is more, I am sure 
that 1 had noticed it on my first inspection, without recognizing it aa tJie 
name [sought.^' 

423. Of the recovery of a lost idea after profound sleep, the 
following incident (which was communicated to- the Writer as 
of recent occurrence, after a Lecture he had been giving on this 



Recovery of Lost Ideas, 523 

•abject, in 1868, at the Royal Institution) affords a remarkable 
example : — 

The Manager of a Bank in a certain large town in Yorkshire 
could not find a duplicate key, which gave access to all the safes ai^d 
desks in the office, and which ought to have been in a place accessible 
only to himself and to the Assistant-manager. The latter being 
absent on a holiday in Wales, the Manager's first impression was that 
the key had probably been taken away by his Assistant in mistake \ 
but on writing to him, he learned to his great surprise and distress 
that he had not got the key, and knew nothing of it. Of course, the 
idea that this key, which gave access to every valuable in the bank, 
was in the hands of any wrong person, having been taken with a 
felonious intention, was to him most distressing. He made search 
everywhere, tried to think of every place in which the key might 
possibly be, and could not find it. The Assistant-manager was 
recalled, both he and every person in the bank were questioned, 
but no one could give any idea of where the key could be. Of 
course, although no robbery had taken place up to this point, 
there was the apprehension that a robbery might be committed 
after the storm had blown over, when a better opportunity might 
be afiForded by the absence of the same degree of watchfulness. 
A first-class detective was then brought down from London, 
and this man had the fullest opportunity given him of making 
inquiries ; every person in the bank was brought up before him ; he 
applied all those means of investigation which a very able man of 
this class knows how to employ ; and at last he came to the Manager 
and said, "I am perfectly satisfied that no one in the bank knows 
anything about this lost key. You may rest assured that you have 
put it away somewhere yourself ; but you have been worrying your- 
self so much about it, that you have forgotten where you put it away. 
As long as you worry yourseK in this manner, you will not remember 
it ; but go to bed to-night with the assurance that it will be all right ; 
get a good night's sleep ; and in the morning you will most likely 
remember where you have put the key." This turned out exactly aa 
was predicted. The key was found the next morning in some extra- 
ordinarily secure place, which the Manager had not previously 
thought of, but in which he then felt sure he must himself hav« 
put it. 



524 Of Unconscious Cerebration, 

424. It is a most remarkable confirmation of this view, that Ideas 
which have passed out of the conscious memory, sometimes express 
themselves in involuntary mtcscular movements, to the great surprise 
of the individuals executing them. Thus, while the answers given 
by the '* talking-tables," or by the pointing or writing of the 
" planchette," in most instances express the ideas consciously 
present to the minds of the operators (§ 252), true answers are often 
given to questions as to matters of fact, notwithstanding that there 
may be either entire ignorance (proceeding from complete forget- 
fulness) of those facts, or absolute disbelief in. the statement of them. 
The following examples of this remarkable occurrence (which were 
attributed by their narrators to " spiritual " agency) are selected 
from many that might be cited to the same effect : — 

a. The Writer was assured that a "planchette," made in Bath, which 
had been on a visit in various families for several months, having 
been asked where it was made, replied " Bath ; " although the ques- 
tioners all thought it came from London, and disbelieved its state- 
ment, which was afterwards verified. 

b. The Eev. Mr. Dibdin, M.A. (in his Lecture on Table- Ttirning 
published in 1853), states that he and a friend having directed the 
table to say, '* How many years is it since her Majesty came to the 
throne ? " the table struck sixteen, though no one present knew the 
date of her accession ; and having directed it to " give the age of the 
Prince of Wales," which was not known either to Mr. Dibdin or his 
friend, the table struck eleven, and then raised the foot a little way. 
On referring to an Almanack, both these numbers were found to be 
correct. — Further, the question being put (in the house of a tailor), 
" How many men are at work in the shop below ? " the table replied 
by striking three, and giving two gentle rises ; on which the employer, 
who was one of the party, said, " There are four men and two boys, 
so three is a mistake; " but Ae afterwards. remembered that one of the 
young men was out of town. 

425. This last fact affords a simple and direct clue to much that 
Beems mysterious in these phenomena : for it is obviously as un- 
philosophical to attribute to an assumed " spiritual " agency tha 



i 



A utomatic Expression of Lost Ideas, 525 

motions of the hands which give written expression to ideas 
formerly — though not at the time — present to the consciousness, as 
it would be to attribute to the like " possession " the utterance of 
words and sentences in a language that has been entirely forgotten, 
and was perhaps never even understood (§ 344 d). In the one case, 
Eis in the other, the records of the old impressions, left in the 
deeper stratum of unconsciousness, disclose their existence through 
the automatic motor apparatus. And that this is the true account 
of the phenomena in question, seems evident from other examples, 
in which (as in the last of the cases just now cited) the subsequent 
reminiscence proved that the idea, which was contrary to the belief 
of the questioner at the time, was the correct reproduction of one 
which had been formerly recorded, but which had passed out of 
the conscious memory : — 

a. The author of an article on *' Spiritualism and its Becent Con- 
verts," states himself to have been informed by an eminent literary 
man, in whose veracity he had the fullest confidence, that " the spirit 
of a friend, whose decease had taken place some months previously, 
having announced itself in the usual way, and the question having 
been put, ' When did I last see you in life ? ' the answer given was 
inconsistent with the recollection of the interrogator. But, on his 
subsequently talking over the matter with his family, it was brought 
to his remembrance that he had seen his deceased friend on the occa- 
Bion mentioned, and had spoken Of it to them at the time, although 
he had afterwards quite forgotten the circumstance." — [Quarterly 
Review, October, 1871, p. 319.) 

h. Another instance, supplied by Mr. Dibdin {op. cit.), aflfbrds yet more 
remarkable evidence to the same efiPect ; especially as being related by 
a firm believer in the ' ' diabolical " origin of Table- talking : — A gentle- 
man, who was at the time a believer in the "spiritual" agency of his 
table, assured Mr. Dibdin that he had raised a good spirit instead of 
fivil ones— that, namely, of Edward Young, the poet. The '* spirit ''' 
having been desired to prove his identity by citing a line of his poetry, 
the table spelled out, "Man was not made to question, but adore.'* 
"Is that in your 'Night Thoughts'?" was then asked. "No." 



526 Of Unconscious Cerebration. 

"Where is it, then?" The reply was, *'j o B." Not being 
familiar with Young's Poems, the questioner did not know what this 
meant ; but the next day he bought a copy of them ; and at the end ot 
the " Night Thoughts " he found a paraphrase of the Book of Job, the 
last line of which is, " Man was not made to question, but adore." 
Of course he was very much astonished ; but not long afterwards he 
came to Mr. Dibdin, and assured him that he had satisfied himself 
that the whole thing was a delusion, — numerous answers he had 
obtained being obviously the results of an influence unconsciously 
exerted on the table by those who had their hands upon it ; and when 
asked by Mr. Dibdin how he accounted for the dictation of the line 
by the spirit of Young, he very honestly confessed, *' Well, the fact 
is, I must tell you, that I had the book in my house all the time, 
although I bought another copy ; and / found that I had read it 
lefore. My opinion is that it was a latent idea, and that the table 
brought it out." 

426. There are other cases, again, in which two distinct trains of 
Mental action are carried on simultaneously, — one consciously, the 
other unconsciously ; the latter guiding the movements, which may 
express something quite unrelated to the subject that entirely and 
continuously engrosses the attention. This is only a higher form 
of the automatic movements already referred to (§ 194) as ex- 
ecuted under the like circumstances ; those now in question being 
the expressions of mental, not of mere bodily habit, — that is to 
say, the resultants of a previous training, which has left its 
impress on the organization. Here, again, we profit by Miss 
Cobbe's graphic sketches (loc. cit., p. 26) : — 

" We read aloud, taking-in the appearance and proper sound of 
each word, and the punctuation of each sentence ; and all the time 
we are not thinking of these matters, but of the argument of the 
author ; or picturing the scene he describes ; or, possibly, following 
A wholly different train of thought. 

*' Similarly, in writing with ' the pen of a ready writer,' it would 
almost seem as if the pen itself took the business of forming the 
letters and dipping itself in the ink at proper intervals, so engrossed 



Dropping-out of L inks of A ssociation. 527 

fti"e we in tlie thoughts which we are trying to express. We uncon- 
Bciously cerebrate — while we are all the time consciously buried in 
our subject — that it will not answer to begin two consecutive 
Bentences in the same way ; that we must introduce a query hero^ 
or an ejaculation there, and close our paragraphs with a sonorous 
word and not with a preposition. All this we do, not of maliu 
prepense, but because the well-tutored sprite, whose business it is to 
look after our ^'s and g-'s, settles it for us, as a clerk does the formal 
part of a merchant's correspondence. 

'' Music-playing is of all others the most extraordinary mani- 
festation of the powers of unconscious cerebration. Here we seem 
not to have one slave, but a dozen. Two different lines of hiero- 
glyphics have to be read at once, aad the right hand has to be guided 
to attend to one of them, the left to another. All the ten fingers 
have their work assigned as quickly as they can move. The mind, 
or something which does duty as mind, interprets scores of A sharps 
and B flats and C naturals into black ivory keys and white ones, 
crotchets and quavers and demi- semiquavers, rests, and all the 
mysteries of music. The feet are not idle, but have something to do 
with the pedals ; and, if the instrument be a double- action harp 
[or an organ], a task of pushings and puUings more difficult than 
that of the hands. And all this time the performer, the conscious 
performer, is in a seventh heaven of artistic rapture at the results 
of all this tremendous business, or perchance lost in a flirtation with 
the individual who turns the leaves of the music-book, and is justly 
persuaded she is giving him the whole of her soul." 

427. Another example of " latent " mental or rather Cerebral 
action is afforded, as Sir William Hamilton has pointed out, by the 
process (first noticed by Hartley) whereby one idea, A, comes directly 
to suggest another idea, C, to which it is unrelated ; the link of 
connection being supplied by a former intermediate idea, B, which 
has passed altogether out of the consciousness. A careful analysis 
of the sequence of our conscious mental action would show that 
this is an extremely common occurrence ; in fact, it is the basis of 
the whole doctrine of resultants, which has been already advanced 
as the rationale of our Common-sense judgments (§ 382). 



528 Of U neons ciotts Cerebration. 



The following circumstance, which happened to the Writer within 
a few hours after penning the above sentences, might seem almost 
too trivial to be recorded, if it were not so exactly *'to the point.** 
His friend Dr. Sharpey having for years acted as one of the Secre- 
taries to the Eoyal Society, the writer had been in the constant habit of 
communicating with him on Royal Society business. But a few 
months previously, Dr. S. had resigned this post ; a fact of which 
the writer was most fully cognizant at the time, and the recollection 
of which would have prevented him from applying to Dr. S. on any 
secretarial matter. Having wished to obtain some information which 
it would have been the function of the Secretary to give, and meet- 
ing Dr. S. at the "Athenaeum," he at once asked him for it, as he 
had been, wont to do ; the mere recognition of Dr. S. prompting this 
application (as a reflex action of the Cerebrum), without the con- 
scious excitement of the idea of Dr. Sharpey's Secretariat, which had 
originally been the connecting link. Had this idea been brought up, 
the writer is sure that he should have at once remembered Dr. 
Sharpey's resignation ; more especially since he had been speaking 
to Professor Huxley, his successor in the Secretariat, only a few 
minutes before, in the same room, with reference to the duties of hia 
offic®. 

428. The explanation of this fact usually adopted by British Meta- 
phj'sicians, is that the intermediate idea, B, is in reality momen- 
tarily present to the consciousness, but that its presence is not 
remembered. This is, however, a mere assumption, resting entirely 
on a foregone conclusion, and incapable of any kind of proof. For, 
as Mr. J. S. Mill has well remarked, when this obliteration of the 
intermediate ideas is complete *' it is, to our subsequent conscious- 
ness, exactly as if we did not have them at all ; we are incapable, 
by any self-examination, of being aware of them." Mr. Mi)l 
entirely agrees with Sir William Hamilton as to the facts ; but 
prefers the Physiological mode of expressing them : "If we admit 
(what physiology is rendering more and more probable) that our 
mental feelings, as well as our sensations, have for their physical 
antecedents particular states of the nerves ; it may well be believed 



Abbreviation of Me7ital Processes. 529 

that the apparently suppressed links in a chain of association 
really are so ; that they are not, even momentarily, felt ; the 
chain of causation being continued only physically by one organic 
state of the nerves succeeding another so rapidly that the state of 
mental consciousness appropriate to eacii is not produced." — (Ex- 
amination of Sir William Hamilton s Philosophy, p. 285.) 

429. It is by a process of direct surgestion of ideas through sensa- 
tions which have originally acted through an intermediate succession 
of Mental states, that, as already pointed out, we derive our notion 
of solid form, by a process of mental construction, from the two dis- 
similar perspectives projected on our retinae (§ 168). And a like 
case of abbreviation, by the omission of the intermediate processes 
by which a composite idea was originally formed, is supplied by 
the two operations to be next adverted to ; the first of them 
familiar to every one, the second well known among experts : — 
When we apply ourselves to the perusal of a book, for the purpose 
of making ourselves acquainted with the author's meaning, if its 
subject be one into which we readily enter, if the writer's flow 
of thought be in a course which we easily follow, and if his lan- 
guage be appropriate to express his ideas, we acquire the meaning 
of one sentence after another, without any conscious recognition of 
the meaning of each of its component 2Vords ; it being only when 
the language is ill chosen, or when we do not readily follow the 
author's train of thought, that we direct our attention to the signi- 
fication of the individual words, and become conscious of their 
separate meaning. Yet it is certain that a particular impression 
must have been made by each of these words upon the Cerebruni, 
before we can comprehend the notion which they were collectively 
intended to convey ; and when a child is first learning to read, 
thai impression gives rise to a distinct idea of the meaning of each 
word separately. — So an expert calculator, who may have originally 
had no more than an ordinary facility in apprehending the relations 
of numbers, casting his eye rapidly from the bottom to the top o/ 



5 30 ^f Unconscious Cerebratio7t. 

a column of figures, will name the total without any conscious 
appreciation of the value of each individual figure ; having acquired 
by practice somewhat of that immediate insight, which is so remark- 
able a form of intuition in certain rare cases (§ 205). It is certaiu 
that a distinct ideational state must have been originally called 
up by the sight of each individual figure ; and yet an impression 
made by it upon the Cerebrum, which does not produce any coii- 
scions recognition of its numerical value, comes to be adequate for 
the evolution of the result. 

430. But whilst, in the preceding instances, no higher act of Mind 
is required, than the production of one ideational resultant from the 
combination of simpler elements, there are cases in which processes 
of a far more elaborate nature are carried on, without necessarily 
affecting our consciousness. Most persons who attend to their own 
Mental operations are aware, that when they have been occupied for 
some time about a particular subject, and have then transferred 
their attention to some other, the first, when they return to the 
consideration of it, may be found to present an aspect very different 
from that which it possessed before it was put aside ; notwith- 
standing that the mind has since been so completely engrossed 
with the second subject, as not to have been consciously directed 
towards the first in the interval. Now a part of this change may 
depend upon the altered condition of the Mind itself ; such as we 
experience when we take up a subject in the morning, with all the 
vigour which we derive from the refreshment of sleep, and find no 
diflficulty in overcoming obstacles and disentangling perplexities, 
which checked our further progress the night before, when we 
were too weary to give more than a languid attention to the points 
to be made out, and could use no exertion in the search for theii 
solutions. But this by no means accounts for the entirely new 
development which the subject is frequently found to have under- 
gone, when we return to it after a considerable interval ; a develop- 
ment which cannot be reasonably explained in any other mode, 



Unconscious Evohttion of yudgments, 53 1 

than by attributing it to an intermediate activity of the Cerebrum, 
which has automatically evolved the result without our conscious- 
uess. This was long smce pointed out by Abraham Tucker, who 
says : — " With all our care to digest our materials, we cannot do it 
c^)mpletely ; but after a night's rest, or some recreation, or the 
l^iod being turned into some different course of thinking, she finds 
ihmf have ranged themselves anew during her absence, and in such 
manner as exhibits almost at one view all their mutual relations, 
dependences, and consequences ; — which shows that our organs do 
not stand idle the moment we cease to employ them, but continue 
the motions w^e put into them after they have gone out of sight, 
thereby working themselves to a glibness and smoothness, and fall- 
ing into a more regular and orderly posture than we could have placed 
them with all our skill and industry.^'* This experience was thus 
recorded by Sir Benjamin Brodie : — 

"It seems to me that on some occasions a still more remarkable 
process takes place in the Mind, which is even more independent of 
volition than that of which we are speaking ; as if there were in the 
mind a principle of order, which operates without our being at the 
time conscicus of it. It has often happened to me to have been 
occupied by a particular subject of inquiry ; to have accumulated a 
store of facts connected with it ; but to have been able to proceed no 
further. Then, after an interval of time, without any addition to 
my stock of knowledge, I have found the obscurity and confusion in 
which the subject was originally enveloped to have cleared away ; 
the facts have seemed all to settle themselves in their right places, 
and tlieir mutual relations to have become apparent, although I 
have not been sensible of having made any distinct effort for that 
purpose." — [Psychological Inquiries, vol. i. p. 20.) 

431. There is considerable ground to believe that the best 

iuJgments are often mentally delivered, in difficult cases, by the 

unconscious resolution of the difficulties in the way of arriving al 

a conclusion, when the question (after being well considered in tho 

• '* Light of Nature Pursued," 2nd edition (1805), vol. i. p. 358. 



532 Of Unconscious Cerebration. 

first place) is left to settle itself. The following extract from the 
Report of a Lecture delivered by the Writer, not long since, 
expresses not merely his own experience, but what he has gathered 
from the experience of others : — 

•* ft has on several occasions occurred to me to have to form a 
decision as to some important chang:e, either in my own plans of life, 
or in those of members of my family, in which were involved a great 
many of what we are accustomed to call pros and cons, — that is, in 
which there was a great deal to be said on both sides. I heard the 
expression once used by a Naturalist, with regard to Classification, 
* It is \rery easy to deal with the white and the hlack ; but the 
difficulty is to deal with the grey.'' And so it is in Life. It is 
perfectly easy to deal with the white and the black; — there are 
things which are clearly right, and things which are clearly wrong ; 
there are things which are clearly prudent, and things which are 
clearly imprudent ; — but a great many cases arise, in which even 
right and wrong may seem questionable, or opposing motives in them- 
selves good may be so balanced that it is difficult to see where our 
duty lies ; and again there are cases in which it is difficult to say 
what is prudent : — and I believe that in all such cases, where we are 
not hurried and pressed for a decision, our best plan is to let the 
question settle itself by Unconscious Cerebration ; having first brought 
before our minds, as fully as possible, everything that can be fairly 
urged on both sides. We discuss the question in our own family 
circle ; then we go to our friends, who very probably suggest con- 
siderations that did not occur to ourselves, but who cannot feel as 
we do the strength of some of the considerations involved ; and then 
it will be found the best way to put the matter altogether aside for a 
month or two (if that time can be allowed), and to turn the current 
of thought and feeling into some entirely different channel. It is 
often wonderful, on returning to the subject after such an interval, 
to find how unhesitatingly the Mind then gravitates, how distinctly 
the balance of judgment then turns. I feel convinced that, in the 
habitually well-disciplined nature, this unconscious operation of the 
Brain, in balancing for itself all these considerations, in putting 
all in order (so to speak), and in working out the result, is far more 
likdy to lead us to a good and true decision, than continual discus* 



Unconscious Evolution of Judgments. 533 

Bion and argumentation. For when one argument is pressed with 
what we feel to be undue force, this leads us to bring up something 
on the other side ; so that we are driven into antagonism by what we 
think the undue pressure of the force which is being exerted. No 
true balance can be struck until this excitement has subsided ; and 
when it lias, the inclination of the balance will be determined by the 
whole previous training and discipline of our Minds, which will be 
the more likely to give to it the right direction, in proportion aa 
we have habitually and determinately shaped our course of conscious 
action under the direction of the highest motives.'' 

432. The Writer has received from a distinguished Prelate the 
following account of his own frequently-repeated experience of 
another form of the same kind of action : — • 

" I have for years been accustomed to act upon your principle of 
'Unconscious Cerebration,' with very satisfactory results. I am 
frequently asked, as you may suppose, to preach occasional sermons ; 
and when I have undertaken any such duty, I am in the habit of 
setting down and thinking over the topics I wish to introduce, with- 
out in the jB.rst instance endeavouring to frame them into any con- 
sistent scheme. I then put aside my sketch for a time, and give my 
mind to some altogether different subject ; and when I come to 
write my sermon, perhaps a week or two afterwards, I very com- 
monly find that the topics I set down have arranged themselves^ 
80 that I can at once apply myself to develope them on the plan in 
which they then present themselves before me." 

433. The following example, furnished by 0. Wendell Holmes, is 
interesting as one in which the individual was ccnsciozis of the flow 
0/ an under-current of mental action, although this did not rise to 
the level of distinct ideation : — 

a. " I was told, within a week, of a business-man in Boston, who, 
having an important question under consideration, had given it up 
for the time as too much for him. But he was conscious of an action 
going on in his brain, which was so unusual and painful as to excite 
his apprehensions that he was threatened with palsy, or something oi 



534 ^f Unconscious Cerebratio7t. 



that sort. After some hours of this uneasiness, his perplexity was 
all at once cleared up by the natural solution of his doubts coming 
1;o him — worked out, as he believed, in that obscure and troubled 
interval." — (Op. cit., p. 47.) 

And it is well said by the same able author, who combines no 
small measure of the intuition of the Poet with the acquired 
knjwledge of the Physiologist and the Physician : — 

&. " I question whether persons who think most — that is, have most 
conscious thought pass through their minds — necessarily do most 
mental work. The tree you are sticking in ' will be growing when 
you are sleeping.' So with every new idea that is planted in a real 
thinker's mind: it will be growing when he is least conscious of it. 
An idea in the brain is not a legend carved on a marble slab : it is 
an impression made on a living tissue, which is the seat of active 
nutritive processes. Shall the initials I carved in bark increase from 
year to year with the tree ? and shall not my recorded thought deve- 
lope into new forms and relations with my growing brain?" — (Op. 
cit,, p. 68.) 

434. The same mode of action seems to have a large share in the 
process of invention, whether x^Lrtistic or Poetical, Scientific or 
Mechanical. For it is a common experience of inventors (whether 
Artists, Poets, or Mechanicians), that when they have been brought 
to a stand by some difficulty, the tangle will he more likely to 
unravel itself (so to speak) if the attention he com'pletely withdrawn 
from it, than by any amount of continued effort. The Writer has 
taken every opportunity that has presented itself to him, of asking 
creators in various departments of Art and Science, what their 
experience has been in regard to difficulties which they have felt, 
and which they have after a time overcome ; and the experience 
has been almost always the same. They have kept the result 
which they have wished to obtain strongly before their attention 
in the first instance, just as we do when we "try to recollect'* 
something we have forgotten, by thinking of everything likely to 
lead to it \ but, if they do not succeed, they put it aside for a 



Unconscious Exercise of the Inventive Faculty. 535 

time, and give their minds to something else, endeavouring to 
obtain either complete repose of mind, or refreshment by change 
of occupation ; and they find that either after sleep, or after some 
poi iod of recreation by a variety of employment, just what they 
want "comes into their heads."— The following is told of Charlotte 
[konte by her Biographer, Mrs. Gaskell ; — 

a. *' She said that it was not every day that she could write. Some- 
times weeks or even months elapsed before she felt that she had any- 
thing to add to that portion of her story which was already written. 
Then, some morning she would waken up, and the progress of her 
tale lay clear and bright before her in distinct vision, its incidents and 
consequent thoughts being at such times more present to iier mind 
than her actual life itself. " — {Life, p. 234.) 

6. " Whenever she had to describe anything which had not fallen 
within her own experience, it was her habit ' to think of it 
intently many and many a night before falling to sleep, wondering 
what it was like, or how it would be ; ' till at length, sometimes after 
the progress of her story had been arrested at this one point for weeks, 
she wakened up in the morning with all clear before her, as if she had 
in reality gone through the experience, and then could describe it word 
for word as it had happened." — [Life, p. 425.) 

So of the late Mr. Appold — the inventor of the centrifugal pump, 
which attracted much attention in the International Exhibition of 
1851, as well as of many other ingenious applications of scientific 
principles to practical purposes — it is recorded that : — 

c. "It was his habit, when a difficulty arose, carefully to consider 
the exact result he required ; and having satisfied himself upon that 
point, he would direct his attention to the simplest mode in which the 
I nd could be attained. With that view he would during the day bring 
together in his mind all the facts and principles relating to the case ; 
and the solution of the problem usually occurred to him in the early 
morning after sleep. If the matter was difficult, he would be restless 
and uneasy during the night ; but after repose, when the brain had 
recovered from fatigue, and when in the quiet of the early morning 
no external influences distracted his attention, the resultant of all 



53^ Of Unconscious Cerebration, 

known scientific principles bearing upon the question presented itself 
to his mind." — {^Proceedings of the Royal Society, vol. xv. p. 5.) 

435. Ths following instanced, communicated to the Writer by the 
gentleman (§ 422) in whose experience they have occurred, are o< 
special interest, as showing, first, how nearly complete the " Cfrciiit 
of thought " (as in the subsequent illustration) may remain for a 
long time without being " closed j " and secondly, how readily its 
result may fade from the conscious memory, if it is not recorded at 
the moment of production. It is within the experience of most 
persons of active minds, that they can distinctly remember being 
struck by some particular "happy thought," which has after- 
wards entirely escaped them through not having been noted down 
at the time ; and it is a prudent system, therefore, to have a 
memorandum-book always at hand, for the registration of all note- 
worthy ideas. 

a. ** When at school, I was fond of trying my hand at geometrical 
problems. One baffied me, I often returned to it, in fact kept by 
me an elaborate figure. Some years after, and when the problem 
had not been touched by me for some time, I had been sitting up 
till the small hours, deciphering a cryptograph for one of my pupils. 
Exulting in the successful solution, I turned into bed ; and suddenly 
there flashed across my mind the secret of the solution of the problem 
I had so long vainly dealt with, this secret being a slight addition 
to my elaborate figure. The efiect on me was strange. I trembled, 
as if in the presence of another being who had communicated the 
secret to me. 

h. '• Another time, an algebraical sum had plagued me for a day or 
two. I could not get the desired result. Some weeks after, on 
returning from a social gathering, I retired, thinking of the pleasant 
evening I had spent ; when suddenly it flashed across me that there 
was an error in the sum as set. I leaped out of bed with the feame 
mysterious feeling upon me, wrote down the involved expression with 
tbe suggested correction, worked the sum, and obtained the desired 
result. Strange to say, some weeks afterwards I took the sum from 
the book, but could not discover what change should be made ; and 



Unconscious Exe}'cise of the hiventive Facidty. 537 

it was not -iintil I found the scrap of paper upon which I had woiked 
it that night, that I could correct the sum in the book. 

" I select the above from a large number of similar experiences. 
In fact, it is my habit to retire to bed, if I meet with any great 
dijQficulty in mathematics; and frequently, when my mind seems 
occupied with something else, and generally just as I seem falling 
asleep, the diflB.culty vanishes, the problem is solved. This has often 
caused me some anxiety; for I have regarded it as an unhealthy 
action of the brain." 

436, We seem justified in citing as an example of the same pro- 
cess, one of the most admirable discoveries in modern Mathematics, 

-that of the method of " Quaternions." Its author, the late Sir W. 
Rowan Hamilton, was eminently distinguished for the possession 
of that Poetic faculty, which some have supposed to be incompatible 
in its \ejj nature with the severe requirements of Mathematical 
study ; but which shows itself in his exposition of his system, in 

that exquisite charm of combined beauty, power, and originality, 
which made Hamilton himself compare Lagrange's great work to 
a scientific poem," and which flashes out in the following descrip- 
tion he gave (in a letter to a friend) of the mode in which the 
first conception of his great discovery occurred to him : — 

"To-morrow will be the fifteenth birthday of the Quaternions. 
They started into life, or light, full-grown, on the 16th of October, 
1843, as I was walking with Lady Hamilton to Dublin, and came 
up to Brougham Bridge. That is to say, I then and there felt the 
galvanic circuit of thought close ; and the sparks which fell from it 
were the fundamental equations between i, j, k; exactly such as I have 
used them ever since. I pulled out, on the spot, a pocket-book, which 
still exists, and made an entry, on which, at the very momenty I felt 
that it might be worth my while to expend the labour of at least ten 
for it might be fifteen) years to come. But then it is fair to sav that 
this was because I felt a problem to have been at that moment solved, 

-an intellectual want relieved, — which had haunted me for at least 
fifteen years before.''^ — [North British Review, Yol. xlv. p. 57.) 

437. The following statement of the mode in which an important 



538 Of Unconscious Cerebration, 

scientific invention came into being, was furnished to the Writer 
by the inventor himself, Mr. F. H. VVenham ; an amateur Optician 
of great ability, who has devoted much time and . attention to the 
construction of the Microscope, and has devised many useful im- 
provements, both in the instrument itself, and in the apparatus 
ftssociated with it. 

The first form of Binocular Microscope (designed to take advantage 
of the principle of Stereoscopic combination of two dissimilar perspec- 
tives, discovered by Wheatstone, § 168) was devised by M. Nachet, 
on a plan which might readily suggest itself to any well-informed 
Optician, who should give sufficient thought to the requirements of 
the case : — that of dividing the cone of rays proceeding from the 
object-glass, into its right-hand and its left-hand halves, by the inter- 
position of an equiangular prism ; and then subjecting each half to a 
second reflection, by which it should be brought into the required 
direction. This construction was perfect in theory, but had two 
practical defects; (1.) that both half- cones were subjected to two 
reflections, and to transmission through four surfaces, each of which 
changes involved a certain loss of light and a certain liability to 
error; and (2.) that the instrument could only be used as a binocular 
Microscope. — Now it occurred to Mr. Wenham, that it might be 
possible so to divide the cone of rays, that one-half of it should go 
straight on without any interruption, while the other half alone 
should be deflected by a single prism, passing through two surfaces 
only ; whereby greater distinctness would be secured in the direct 
image, whilst, by the withdrawal of the prism, the instrument might 
be used in the ordinary way for purposes to which the Binocular 
microscope could not be applied. He thought of this a great deal, 
without being able to hit upon the form of prism which would do what 
was required ; and as he was going into business as an Engineer, he 
put his microscopic studies entirely aside for more than a fortnight, 
attending only to his other affairs. One evening, after his day's 
W3rk was done, and " while he was reading a stupid novel," thinking 
nothing whatever of his microscope, the form of the prism that should 
answer the purpose flashed into his mind. He fetched his mathe- 
matical instruments, drew a diagram of it, and worked out the 
angles which would be required ; the next morning he made hia 



Unconscious Action of Mechanis^n of Thought. 539 

prism, and found that it answered perfectly well ; and it iias been 
on this plan that all the " binoculars " hitherto in ordinary use in 
this country have been since constructed. 

438. The more thoroughly, then, we examine into what may be 
termed the Mechanism of Thought, the more clear does it become 
that not only an automatic^ but an unconscious action enters largel}» 
into all its processes. As 0. Wendell Holmes has well re* 
mai^ied : — 

a. *' Our (^e/imieic^eas are stepping-stones; how we get from one to the 
other, we do not know : something carries us ; we \i. e. our conscious 
selves] do not take the step. A creating and informing spirit, which 
is with us, and not of us, is recognised every where in real and in 
stoiied life. It is the Zeus that kindled the rage of Achilles ; it is 
the Muse of Homer ; it is the Daimon of Socrates ; it is the inspira- 
tion of the Seer ; it is the mocking spirit that whispers to Margaret 
as she kneels at the altar ; and the hobgoblin that cried *' Sell him, 
sell him!" in the ear of John Bunyan ; it shaped the forms that 
filled the soul of Michael Angelo, when he saw the figure of the great 
lawgiver in the yet unhewn marble, and the dome of the world's 
yet unbuilt Basilica against the black horizon ; it comes to the least 
of us as a voice that will be heard ; it tells us what we must believe ; 
it frames our sentences ; it lends a sudden gleam of sense oi 
eloquence to the dullest of us all ; we wonder at ourselves, or rather 
not at ourselves, but at this divine visitor, who chooses our brain as 
his dwelling-place, and invests our naked thought with the purple 
of the kings of speech or song." — (Op. cit. p. 59.) 

439. But it is not intellectual work alone, that is done in this 
manner ; for it seems equally clear that emotional states, or ratJ.er 
states which constitute Emotions when we become conscious of them, 
may be developed by the same process ; so that our feelings towards 
persons and objects may undergo most important changes, without 
our being in the least degree aware, until we have our attention 
directed to our own mental state, of the alteration which hat, taken 
place in them. — A characteristic example of this kind of action, ia 
afforded by an occurrence extremely common in real lile, and con- 



540 Of Unconscious Cerebration, 

tinually reprodaced in fiction ; namely, the gro wing-up of a power- 
ful attachment between individuals of opposite sexes, without either 
being aware of the fact ; its full strength being only revealed to 
the consciousness of each, when circumstances threaten a separi* 
lion, or when both are exposed to a common danger. An eclaircissC' 
menx then takes place ; the Love which each has come unconsciously 
to entertain for the other is first self-revealed, and then, that of each 
becoming apparent to the other, it suddenly bursts forth, like a 
smouldering fire, into full flame. The existence of a mutual attach- 
ment, indeed, is often recognised by a by-stander (especially if the 
perception be sharpened by jealousy, which leads to an intuitive 
interpretation of many minute occurrences that would be without 
significance to an ordinary observer), before either of the parties 
has made the discovery, whether as regards the individual self, or 
the beloved object ; the Cerebral state manifesting itself in action, 
although no distinct consciousness of that state has been attained, 
chiefly because, the whole attention being attracted by the present 
enjoyment, there is little disposition to introspection. — The fact, 
indeed, is recognised in our ordinary language ; for we continually 
speak of the " feelings " which we unconsciously entertain towards 
another, and of our not becoming aware of them until some circum- 
stance calls them into activity. 

440. Here again, it would seem as if the material organ of 
these Feelings tends to form itself in accordance with the impres- 
sions habitually made upon it ; whilst we may be as completely 
unaware of the changes which have taken place in it, as we are of 
those by which passing events have been registered in our memory, 
until some circumstance calls-forth the conscious manifestation, 
which is the " reflex " of the new condition which the organ has 
acquired. And it is desirable, in this connection, to recall the fact 
that the Emotional state seems often to be determined by circum- 
Btances of which the individual has no Ideational consciousness, and 
especially by the emotional states of those by whom he is surrounded 



UnconscioiLS Inflttences. 541 

(§189); a mode of influence which acts with peculiar potency 
on the minds of Children, and which is a most important element 
in their Moral education. As Dr. Bushnell (an American Divine) 
has well remarked : — 

** Men are ever touching unconsciously the springs of motion in each 
other ; one man, without thought or intention or even a conscious- 
ness of the fact, is ever leading some others after him. 
There are two sorts of influence belonging to Man : that which is 
active and voluntary, and that which is unconscious ; that which we 
exert purposely, or in the endeavour to sway another, as by teaching, 
by argument, by persuasion, by threatenings, by offers and promises, 
and that which flows out from us, unawares to ourselves. 
The more stress needs to be laid on this subject of insensible 
influence, because it is insensible, because it is out of mind, and, 
when we seek to trace it, beyond a full discovery. If the doubt 
occur whether we are properly responsible for an influence which 
we exert insensibly, I reply that we are not, except so far as this 
influence flows directly from our character and conduct. And this 
it does even much more uniformly than our active conduct. In the 
latter we may fail in our end, though animated by the best motives, 
through a want of wisdom or skill ; or, again, we may really succeed 
and do great good by our active endeavours, from motives altogether 
base and hypocritical. But the influences we exert unconsciously 
will hardly ever disagree with our real character. They are honest 
influences, following our character as the shadow follows the sun. 
And therefore we are much more certainly responsible for them, and 
for their effects on the world. They go streaming from us in all 
directions, though in channels that we do not see, poisoning or 
healing, around the roots of society, and among the hidden wells of 
character. If good ourselves, they are good ; if bad, they are bad. 

" Then, if we go over to others, that is to the subjects of influence, 
we find every man endowed with two inlets of impression : the ear 
and the understanding for the reception of speech ; and the sympa- 
thetic powers, the sensibilities or affections, for tinder to those sparks 
uf emotion revealed by looks, tones, manners, and general conduct. 
And these sympathetic powers, though not immediately rational, are 
yet inlets, open on all sides, to the understanding and character. 



542 Of Unconscioits Certbration. 

They have a certain wonderful capacity to receive impressions, and 
catch the meaning of signs, and propagate in us whatsoever falls into 
their passive moulds, from others. The impressions they receive do 
not come from verbal propositions, and are never received into verbal 
propositions, it may be, in the mind ; and therefore many think 
nothing of them. But precisely on this account are they the moro 
pawerful. 

* Influences of this kind are not insignificant because they are 
unnoticed and noiseless. How is it in the natural world ? Behind 
the mere show, its outward noise and stir, Nature always conceals 
her hand of control. Who ever saw with the eye, for example, or 
heard with the ear, the exertions of that tremendous Astronomic 
force, which every moment holds the compact of the Physical 
universe together ? The lightning is, in fact, but a mere firefly 
spark in comparison ; but, because it glares on the clouds, and 
thunders so terribly in the ears, and rives the tree or the rock where 
it falls, many will be ready to think that it is a vastly more potent 
agent than gravity.'* — [Unconscious Influence, a Discourse, by Horace 
Bushnell, D.D.) 

441. The unconscious influence of what may be called the Moral 

Atmosphere breathed during the earlier period of life, in forming 

the habits, and thereby determining the Mechanism of Thought 

and Feeling, is a subject of such great practical importance, as 

to have required separate treatment (§ 290). But it is not one of 

the least valuable teachings of that doctrine, that it should lead 

us (as Mr. Lecky has very justly pointed out) to a very large 

toleration for those, who, having been brought up in a different 

*' school" from ourselves, entertain views entirely different from 

our own as to many questions of practical life ; not being able to 

recognise what are to ourselves "self-evident" conclusions, an(3 

-ven regarding many things as " right" which seem to us to 

t plainly " wrong," or vice versd. How completely such decisions 

an matters of judgment — depending not only upon the early 

dir^tion of the Mind, but frequently also, it seems probable, upon 

• hereat(^Ty tendencies, — has been already shown (§§ 210, 292). The 



Recttrre7tce of Early Mental States. 543 

unconscious prejudices which we thus form, are often stronger than 
l/he conscioits; and they are the more da.ngerous, because we cannot 
knowing]}'- guard against them. And further (as Mr, Lecky has 
vrell remarked), though the reason, in her full strength, may pierce 
the clouds of prejudice, and may even rejoice and triumph in her 
liberty, yet " the conceptions of childhood will long remain latent 
IP the mind, to reappear in every hour of weakness, when the 
tension of the reason is relaxed, and the power of old associations 
is supreme." 

"This very painful recurrence, which occupies such an important 
plac3 in all religious biographies, seems to be attached to an 
extremely remarkable and obscure department of Mental phenomena, 
which has only been investigated with earnestness within the last 
few years, and which is termed by Psychologists ' latent conscious- 
ness,' and by Physiologists * unconscious cerebration,' or *the reflex 
action of the brain. ^ That certain facts remain so hidden in the 
mind, that it is only by a strong act of volition they can be recalled 
to recollection, is a fact of daily experience ; but it is now fully 
established that a multitude of events which are so completely for- 
gotten that no effort of the will can revive them, and that the state- 
ment of them calls up no reminiscences, may nevertheless be, so to 
speak, imbedded in the memory, and may be reproduced with intense 
vividness under certain physical conditions. * * * It is in con- 
nection with these facts, that we should view that reappearance of 
opinions, modes of thought, and emotions, belonging to a former 
stage of our intellectual history, which is often the result of the 
Automatic action of the mind, when Volition is altogether suspended. 
* * * There can be little doubt that when we are actively 
reasoning, this automatic action of the mind still continues ; but th»3 
ideas and trains of thought that are thus produced are so combined 
and transformed by the reason, that we are unconscious of their 
existence. They exist, nevertheless; and form (or greatly contribute 
to) our meiital bias." — {^Histcry of nationalism, vol. i. p. 1 01.) 



39 



CHAPTEE, Xiy. 

OF EEYERIE A.*^D ABSTRACTION j ELECTRO-BIOLOGY. 

4:4:2. It has been shown (Chap. VI., Sect. 2) that the sequence ol 
the Thoughts and Feelings, when left to follow their own course 
by the suspension of the controlling power of the Will, may be 
determined by suggestions either from within or from without ; 
that is, by the promptings of previous ideational states recorded 
in the Cerebrum, or by those of new sensorial impressions. In 
the former case, the attention is so engrossed by the objects which 
present themselves to the internal senses, that impressions made 
en the external are either not felt at all, or their meaning is not 
apprehended. But when the Mind is not following any definite 
direction of its own, one idea may be readily substituted for 
another by new suggestions from without ; and thus the whole 
state of the convictions, the feelings, and the impulses to action, 
may be altered from time to time, without the least perception 
of the strangeness of the transition. — Such are the characteristics 
of the states known as Reverie and Abstraction; which are funda- 
mentally the same in their character, though the form of their 
products differs with the temperament and previous habits of the 
individual, and with the degree in which his consciousness may 
remain open to external impressions, — Reverie being the automatic 
r.»ental action of the Poet, Abstraction that of the Reasoner. 

443. The Poet who is fond of communing with Nature in her 
various moods, and of resigning himself freely to her influences, is 
apt to give the reins to his Imagination, whilst gazing fixedly upon 
Bome picturesque cloud, or upon the ever- varying surface of a pebblj? 
brook, or whilst listening to the breezy murmurs of a neighbouring 



Relation between Reverie and Abstraction. 545 

wood, or the gently-repeated ripple of the quiet waves ; or he 
falls into a reverie as he sits before his winter fire, and contem- 
plates the shapes and hues of its burning caverns, following with 
intent gaze every variation of light and shade produced by their 
ever-changing flames, and every alteration in form that results 
from the wasting combustion of their walls. In his attention to 
such monotonous series of impressions, his Will seems, as it were, 
to glide away ; and his thoughts and feelings are thus left free to 
wander hither and thither, according as they are swayed by 
changes in the external impressions which prompt them, or by 
those seemingly erratic suggestions which proceed from that play 
)f association to which we give the name of Eancy (§ 401). — On the 
other hand, it has been the constant habit of the Philosopher to 
reflect rather upon his own ideas, than upon the impressions he 
receives through his organs of sense : in fact, he purposely keeps 
these as much as possible outside his cognizance, in order that 
they may not exercise any distracting influence upon his thoughts ; 
the promptings of fancy or imagination — if he should happen' to 
possess any share of such endowments — are at once repressed, and 
the attention is kept steadily fixed upon the logical sequence of 
.he ideas ; and thus it happens that his Mind, even when he 
gives it up to its own automatic action, in the monotonous 
solitude of his study, works witji more or less of logical consistency, 
and that the fabric which it rears possesses a unity and stability 
which is in striking contrast with the airy castle-building of the 
poetic day-dreamer. 

444. In neither of these two states are we cognizant of the in. 
consistency of the notions which possess our minds, with the actual 
experience of realities. It is true that this inconsistency seldom 
rises to the same extravagant height, that it attains in true 
Dreaming. The incongruities of poetic Reverie are not often 
actually absurd ; and the conclusions at which we arrive in a fit of 
intellectual Abstraction usually have a show of truth, even when 



5 4^ Of Reverie and A bstr action ; — Electro-biology, 

their correctness is altogether vitiated by some false step in the 
reasoning process. And this limitation seems to depend upon the 
fact, that when the train of suggestion is bringing some very extra- 
vagant notion bef9re the consciousness, the shock to the lingering 
remnant of Common Sense which still survives, is enough to put 
an abrupt termination to the reverie. 

445. But it is one of the most curious phenomena of the state 
of Abstraction, that external impressions, if received by the con- 
Bciousness at all, are very often wrongly perceived ; being interpreted 
in accordance with the ideas which happen to be dominant in the 
mind at the time (§ 186), instead of giving rise to those new ideas 
which ordinarily connect themselves with them, in virtue of the 
individual's habitual experience. The records of " absence of mind " 
are full of amusing instances of such misinterpretation. Nothing 
seems too strange for the individual to believe, nothing too absurd 
for him to do under the influence of that belief. 

Thus of Dr. Eobert Hamilton, a well-known Professor at Aber- 
deen, who was the author of many productions distinguished for their 
profound and accurate science, their beautiful arrangement, and their 
clear expression, we are informed that, *' In public, the man was a 
shadow ; pulled-off his hat to his own wife in the streets, and apolo- 
gised for not having the pleasure of her acquaintance ; went to his 
classes in the college on the dark mornings, with one of her white 
fitockings on the one leg, and one of his own black ones on the other ; 
often spent the whole time of the meeting in moving from the table 
the hats of the students, which they as constantly returned ; some- 
times invited them to call on him, and then fined them for coming to 
insult him. He would run against a cow in the road, turn round, 
bog her pardon, call her ' Madam,' and hope she was not hurt. At 
other times he would run against posts, and chide them for not 
getting out of his way." (See New Monthly Magazine^ vol. xxvii. 
p. 510.) 

446. The influence of some habitual form of thought often 
shows itself very curiously in the strange turn given to communica- 



A utomatic Mental A dion. 547 

kioiif? made to persons whose whole attention is engrossed by what ia 
passing in their own minds. The well-known story of the philo- 
sopher, who, when interrupted in his meditations by the intelligence 
that his house was on fire, coolly replied to the servant who had 
burst in upon him with the terrible news, " Go and tell your 
mistress; you know that I never interfere about domestic matters," 
is not more incredible than the following circumstance, which, as 
the Writer has been informed on good authority, actually occurred 
in the case of the late celebrated German mathematician Gauss : — 

Being engaged in one of his most profound investigations, at a time 
when his wife, to whom he was known to be deeply attached, was 
suflfering from a severe illness, his study was one day broken into by 
a servant, who came to tell him that her mistress had suddenly become 
much worse. He seemed to hear what was said, but either he did not 
comprehend it, or immediately forgot it, and went on with his work. 
Aftei some little time, the servant came again to say that her 
mistiess was much worse, and to beg that he would come to her at 
once, to which he replied, '* I will come presently." Again he 
relapsed into his previous train of thought, entirely forgetting the 
intention he had expressed, most probably without having distinctly 
realised to himself the import either of the communication itself or of 
bis answer to it. For not long afterwards, when the servant came 
again, and assured him that her mistress was dying, and that if he 
did not come wimediately he would probably not find her alive, 
he lifted up his head and calmly replied, *' Tell her to wait till I come; '* 
— a message he had doubtless often before sent, when pressed by 
his wife's requests for his presence, while he was himself similarly 
engaged. 

447. There are many individuals, who, though not prone either 
to Reverie or to Abstraction as distinctly isolated states, are really 
the subjects of the same automatic menial action, either (1) when 
sleep is stealing over them, or (2) when they are passing out of 
Bleep into the state of full wakeful activity. With some, it is true, 
tiie transition from the one state to the other is usually sudden and 
complete ; the state of fall activity giving place to one of entire 



54^ Of Reverie and A bstraction ; — Electro-biology, 

torpor, and vice vei^sd. But even these, if they will take the trouble 
to make observations upon their own consciousness, will find that 
on some occasions the process is much more gradual, and that it 
consists of several stages. In the first, the directing and controlling 
power of the Will is suspended, and the thoughts flow onwards 
automatically, as in Reverie or Abstraction, according to the direc- 
tion which they may have previously received. Secondly, the 
ideas lose their ordinary coherence, so that the strangest and most 
inconsistent notions are brought into collocation ; and in this state, 
as in reverie, it not unfrequently happens that we are recalled to 
full activity by the shock we' receive from the absurdity of the images 
which thus rise before our view. But, thirdly, if this does not occur, 
the automatic activity seems gradually to subside ; the successioji 
of thoughts becomes less and less rapid, and they present themselves 
with diminishing vividness ; and at last, as the ideational changes 
cease to make a definite impression on the consciousness, the state 
of complete repose supervenes. — On the other hand, on our first 
awaking, we frequently experience a considerable degree of 
mental confusion, especially if we find ourselves in an unac- 
customed place. We do not know where we are, we do 
not recollect what has last occurred to us, we are almost 
destitute of the consciousness of personal identity. By degrees 
all these things come back to us, and the confusion of our 
ideas gives place to orderly arrangement. But it may be some 
little time before we can determinately perform any Mental 
operation which involves the Volitional direction of the thoughts ; 
this being the power that is the first to leave us, and the last 
to be regained. 

448. Induced Reverie, or Electro- Biology. — In the course of that 
important series of researches, carried on about thirty years ago 
by the late Mr. Braid, of Manchester, by which, in the Writer's 
opinion, more light has been thrown upon the reflex actions of 
the Cerebrum than by any other investigations, Mr. B. discovered 



A rtificial Induction of Reverie. 5 49 

that there are many persons in whom a state may be artificially 
induced, resembling profound reverie ; save that the subjects 
of it are yet more amenable than the subjects of natural reverie, 
to external suggestions conveyed to their minds through their 
Senses ; whilst, in the absence of such suggestions, the Mind (having 
in itself no power of altering the current of its ideas) remains as 
completely "possessed" by its own internal train of thought, as it is 
in profound abstraction. This state may be superinduced in certain 
susceptible or " sensitive " individuals, upon the ordinary waking 
state, without a previous passage through the stage of insensibility ; 
it being often sufficient for its induction, that the attention should 
be fixed for a few minutes, or even for a few seconds, upon any 
object whatever. By "leading" or suggestive questions addressed 
to his " sensitives," Mr. B. could not only bring them to feel any 
kind of sensation (pricking, burning, streaming, creeping, and the 
like) which he chose that they should describe, when magnets were 
drawn along their limbs, or elicit descriptions of small volcanoes 
of flame seen by them to issue from the poles of the magnet ; 
but he could cause their hands to be powerfully attracted 
towards magnets or crystals, or to be repelled by them : in 
short, he could repeat all the phenomena adduced by Baron 
Von Reichenbach^' as proofs of *' odylic force," and this as well 
ivithout magnets as with them^ provided only that the "subjects" 
believed that some operation was being performed, and were led to 
expect some result (§§ 144-— 146). 

a. The Writer himself witnessed a most remarkable series of such 
experiments, about the year 1847, upon a gentleman of high literary 
and scientific attainments, who possessed in an unusual degree the 
power of self-concentration. It was sufficient for him to place hia 
hand upon the table, and to fix his attention upon it for half a minute, 
to be entirely unable to withdraw it, if assured in a determined tone 

* Researches in Magnetism, Eleclricityy Heat, Light, Crystallization, and 
C'cmicai Attraction, in their relations to t/ie Vital Force. Translated by Br 
Griegory. London, 1850. 



55^ 6y Reverie and A bs traction ; — Electro-biology. 

Miat he could not possihly do so. — When his gaze had been steadily 
kept for a short time upon the poles of a Magnet, he could be brought 
to see flames issuing from them, of any form or colour that Mr. Braid 
chose to name. And when he had been desired to place his hand 
upon one of the poles, and to fix his attention for a brief period upon 
it, the peremptory assurance that he could not detach it was suflB.cient 
to hold it there with such tenacity, that Mr. Braid positively dragged 
him round the room, in a manner that most amusingly realised the 
German fairy story of the Golden Goose. — Some may, perhaps, think 
the Writer rather credulous in at once yielding his assent to the 
genuineness of such a strange performance. But the character and 
position of the " subject" of it were such as to place him beyond the 
suspicion of intentional deceit ; and the Writer's previous inquiries 
had prepared him to find nothing too strange for his belief, that 
could be referred to the one simple and intelligible principle of 
"possession" bya " dominant idea" excited thTOugh suggestion,, 

449. Notwithstanding that Mr. Braid's investigations were thus 
carried on for several years, with every disposition on his part to 
enable the public to judge of their nature and results, they did 
not attract by any means the amount of general attention that 
might have been anticipated for them. But about the year 1850, 
"the world was turned upside down" by a couple of itinerant 
Americans, who styled themselves "professors" of a new art which 
they termed Electro-Biology ; asserting that, by an influence of 
which the secret was known only to themselves, but which was 
partly derived from a little disk of zinc and copper held in the 
hand of the "subject" and steadily gazed on by him (whence the 
designation which they adopted), they could subjugate the moat 
determined will, paralyse the strongest muscles, pervert the 
evidence of the senses, destroy the memory of even the most fariLilar 
things or of the most recent occurrences, induce obedience to any 
command, or make the individual believe himself transformed 
into any one else, — all this, and much more, being done while he 
was Btill wide awake. They soon attracted large assemblages to 
witness their performances ; and there was an appearance of good 



A rtificial Induction of Reveine. 5 5 1 

faith about them which made a favourable impression, as they 
Bhowed themselves ready to operate upon any who miglit 
offer, and seldom failed to elicit some of the most remarkable 
phenomena from individuals whose honesty could not be called in 
question, and who had previously been entire strangers to them. 
Ever on the watch, however, for any novelties in his favourite 
study, Mr. Braid set himself to inquire into the real nature of the 
BO-called "electro-biological" process: and he soon proved that the 
little disk of copper and zinc may be replaced by any object which 
furnishes a 'point dJappui for the fixed gaze ; the whole secret 
consisting in the induction — through the steady direction of 
the eyes to one point, at the ordinary reading distance, for a period 
usually varying from about five to twenty minutes — of a state 
of reverie, in every respect similar to that which had previously 
fallen under his notice. Thus, in place of a few peculiarly sus- 
ceptible "subjects'' difiicult to be met with, and open to suspicion 
on various grounds, every member of the public came to be furnished 
with a ready means of experimenting for himself upon his owu 
family and friends, the student upon his fellow-students, the ofiicer 
on the members of his mess ; everybody, in fact, upon somebody 
else on whom he felt that he could place reliance. " Electro- 
Diology," or "Biology" (as it came to be very commonly desig- 
nated), was not merely introduced at scientific reanioTis, but became 
a fashionable amusement, in some circles, at ordinary evening 
parties. And thus it happened that a very large proportion of 
the public became familiarised with its phenomena ; though still 
labouring under the perplexing difficulty of not knowing what 
to believe as to their genuineness, or to what scientific principles 
to refer them if their genuineness were admitted. 

450. Considered in their relation to other states in which the Mind 
is "possessed" by "dominant ideas," and acts in accordance with 
them, the Biological phenomena are so far from being absurd 
or incredible, that they are simply manifestations of a condition to 



552 Of Reverie and A bstr action ; — Eledro-biologx. 

which we may frequently detect very close approximations within 
our ordinary experience ; the most special peculiarity which attends 
them, consisting in the method by which the peculiar condition in 
question may be artificially induced — in such individuals, at least, as 
are constitutionally susceptible of its influence. In some "subjects," 
five, ten, or twenty minutes may be necessary to produce the effect ; 
in other's, a single minute, or even half a minute, is sufficient. It 
may be regarded as certain that the " biological " state may be 
thus induced in individuals who were previously quite incredulous 
in regard to its reality ; so that it does not require any mental 
preparation on the part of the "subject." But it seems no less 
certain that the anticipation of the result tends to produce it in a 
shorter time than would otherwise be necessary ; and it is for the 
most part among individuals who have repeatedly subjected them- 
selves to the operation, that the greatest facility presents itself. 
The longer the steady gaze is sustained, the more is the Will 
of the individual withdrawn from the direction of his thoughts, 
and concentrated upon that of his eyes, so that at last it seems 
to become entirely transferred to the latter ; and, in the mean 
time, the continued monotony is tending, as in the induction 
of Sleep or of Reverie, to produce a corresponding state of mind, 
which, like the body of a cataleptic subject, can be moulded into 
any position, and remains in that position until subjected to pres- 
sure from without.* 

* It is curious that the artificial induction of similar states, varying in degree 
from simple Reverie to apparent Death, is practised among the Yogi, a set of 
Hindoo devotees, by whom it is connected with a system of religious philosophy 
^ery lauch akin to the " Spiritualism " of our own countiy. The subjects of the 
VoSK&r states are considered to be peculiarly susceptible of spiritual impresdons ; 
':^hil&t tliose of the higher are supposed to be completely " possessed " by Brahma, 
the " supreme soul, and to be incapable of sin in thought, word, or deed. — It is 
a question of great interest whether the state of mind of those who were resorted 
%o as "oracles " in ancient times was not verysimilar to th's. See Mr. Plumptre's 
ftrtiele on ** Urim and Thummim " in Dr. William Smith's Dictionary of thi 
Bible. 



Influence of Suggestion on Biologized Subjects, 553 

451. When this state is complete, the Mind of the Biologized 
** subject " seems to remain entirely dormant, until aroused to 
activity by some suggestion which it receives through the ordinary 
channels of sensation, and to which it responds as automatically as 
a ship obeys the movements of its rudder ; the whole course of the 
individual's thought and action being completely under external 
direction. He is, indeed, for the time, a mere thinking automaton. 
His mind is entirely given up to the domination of any idea that 
may transiently possess it ; and of that idea his conversation and 
actions are the exponents. He has no power of judging of the 
consistency of his idea with actual facts, because he cannot 
determinately bring it into comparison with them. He cannot of 
himself turn the current of his thoughts, because all his power of 
self-direction is in abeyance. And thus he may be played-on, 
like a musical instrument, by those around him ; thinking, feeling, 
speaking, acting, just as they m^^that he should think, feel, speak, 
or act. But this is not, as has been represented, because his will 
has been brought into direct subjection to theirs ; but because, his 
will being in abeyance, all his mental operations are directed by 
such suggestions as they may choose to impress on his conscious- 
ness. — This distinction may seem unimportant ; but it is essential 
(in the Writer's opinion) to that comprehension of the true nature 
of this peculiar state, and of its relations with others, which gives 
to it its special place in Psychological Science. 

452. In the public exhibitions of professed "Biologists," much 
assumption was made of a peculiar power possessed by the operator 
over his " subject ; " his suggestions were conveyed in the form of 
ftummands, and the delusion was kept up by a frequent recourse to 
"passes" resembling those of the Mesmerists. There is no good 
reason to believe, however, that any such relation actually exists, 
Biive where it has been established by previous habit, or by a strong 
antecedent expectation on the part of the "subject." When an 
iniUvidual brings himself into this state of artificial Reverie 01 



5 54 Of Reverie and A bstr action ; — Electro-bioloj^y, 

Abstraction for the first time, and without any previous idea that 
he is to be controlled by one person rather than by another, he is 
amenable (as the Writer has frequently proved) to suggestions from 
any of the bystanders ; and the directing force of such suggestions 
depends in great degree upon the tone and manner in wliich they 
are given. But as previous expectation, or acquired habit, affect 
the facility with which this condition may be induced, so do they 
influence every part of its phemomena ; and if the " subject " be 
*' possessed " with a previous conviction that a particular individual 
is destined to exert a special influence over him, the suggestions of 
that individual are obviously received with greater readiness, and 
are responded to with greater certainty, than are those of any other 
bystander. — This is the whole mystery of the relationship between 
the "Biologizer" and his "subject ;" a relationship which is quite 
conformable, on the one hand, to what we see in the daily 
experience of life, as to the influence acquired by certain indi- 
viduals over the course of thought and action of others ; whilst 
on the other, it becomes, when still more concentrated and esta- 
blished, the source of that peculiar and exclusive rapport, which 
the Mesmerist claims to be able to establish between his " subject" 
and himself (§ 521 ). The assumption of the tone of command has 
simply the effect of strongly impressing the " subject " (whose 
condition in this respect resembles that of a Child) with the 
feeling of the necessity of the action enjoined ; and the earnest 
reiteration of the phrases "you must" or "you cannot," is 
found to be quite as el£cacious as the vehement tone of mastery 
in which the directions are frequently given. So, again, the effect 
of the "passes" is merely to concentrate the attention of the "sub- 
ject" upon the jjart to which the injunction refers ; for, as Pro- 
fessor Bennett pointed out, they are made over the part which ig 
to move ortu be fixed (as over the mouth when it is to be prevented 
from opening, or over the foot which is to be riveted to a certain spot 
of the floor), an dnotovej the muscles by which the action is produced. 



Infiuence of StLggestioji 07i Biologized Sicbjects. 555 

453. The Biologized "subject," like a person in an ordinary 
Reverie, must be considered as awake : that is, he has generally the 
use of all his senses, and preserves, in most cases, a distinct recollec- 
tion of what takes place. There is every gradation, however, between 
tins condition and that of true Somnambulism (§ 487) ; in which 
one or more of the inlets to sensation are closed, and no remem- 
bvance is afterwards preserved (save in a renewed condition of the 
B;ime kind) of anything that may have been thought, felt, or acted. 
In fact, the two conditions are essentially the same in every respect, 
save their intensity \ and the one graduates insensibly into the 
other. Different individuals preserve very different degrees of 
recollection of what may have passed in the Biological state ; 
and this may be the case, too, with the same individual on 
different occasions. Sometimes everything can be retraced, 
sometimes only the general course of thought and action ; some- 
times the fact of Emotional excitement is more strongly remembered 
than that of the circumstances which produced it ; and whilst, in 
other instances, not the slightest memorial trace remains of the most 
passicfnately expressed feelings, the particular incidents by which 
these were excited may have left their distinct impressions. 

454. The same kind of varietj'- shows itself in the psychical pheno- 
mena manifested during the persistence of the " Biological " state. 
Suggestions of different kinds are received and acted-on by different 
individuals with very varying degrees of readiness ; and few are 
equally amenable to all. Thus we meet with one individual whose 
muscular movements may be entirely governed by the authoritative 
assurance " you must do this," or '•' you cannot do that ;" his wiiole 
mind being, for the time, possessed with the fixed idea thus 
introduced of the absolute necessity of the action commanded,. 
and of the impossibility of that which is forbidden. His hands 
being placed in contact with each other, he is assured that he 
cannot sepai'ate them ; and they remain as if firmly glued together, 
in spite of all nis apparent efforts to draw them apart. Or, the 



5 5 6 Of Reverie and A bstr action ; — Electro-biology. 

hand of tlie operator being held up before him, he is assured that 
he cannot succeed in striking it ; and all his power seems, and 
actually is, inadequate to the performance of this simple action 
BO long as he remains convinced of its entire impossibility. 

The Writer has seen a strong man thus chained down to his 
chair, — prevented from steppmg over a stick on the floor, — or obliged 
to remain almost doubled upon himself in a stooping posture, — by 
the assurance that he could not move ; and when on the first occasion 
this assurance seemed not to have its full effect, its repetition, in a 
more vehement tone, was suflBcient to retain him. So he has seen 
a very lively young lady straggling in vain for utterance, with a 
most ludicrous expression of distress, when assured that she could 
not open her mouth to speak a word ; and he has been obliged to 
put forth all his strength to drag another lady across the threshold 
of the door, who had been thus convinced of the impossibility of 
her crossing it. 

455. There is no end to the strange performances which may be 
thus called forth ; but they are all referable to the one simple 
principle already laid down as the characteristic of this state, — ^the 
" possession" of the mind by a dominant idea, which the individual 
himself has lost all power of testing by his previous or present expe- 
rience, simply because he cannot himself direct his thoughts to any 
other object (§ 316). Of this " dominant idea," introduced by sugges- 
tions ah extra, all his actions are the direct expressions, so long as he 
remains possessed by it ; but as soon as his attention is directed 
into another channel, or his previous idea of the necessity or of the 
impossibility of an action (as the case may be) is dissipated by a, 
word, a sign, or a look on the part of the individual who is thus 
directing his thoughts and actions, the potent spell by which he 
appeared to be enchained is at once dissolved, the effort to fulfil the 
Bupposed necessity immediately subsides, the most violent struggle 
with the assumed impossibility at once comes to an end, and the 
"subject" appears to be "himself again." Yet he is not so ia 



Determination of Actions by Stiggestiofi. 557 

reality ; for liis volitional power is still withdrawn from tho 
direction of his thoughts, so that the peremptory command oi 
another exerts its former influence over him, even after a consi- 
derable interval may have elapsed. It is impossible to state how 
long this state may continue ; the Writer has himself known it to 
last for several hours ; and he is inclined to think that the 
Biologized *' subject" does not usually regain his proper control 
over himself, until he has experienced the renovating influence 
of Sleep. 

456. It will be frequently observed that the mandates of the 
operator are not immediately or implicitly obeyed. The " subject" 
makes attempts, which are often successful, to resist them ; doing, 
though with difficulty, what has been asserted to be impossible ; 
and refraining, though with obvious effort, from the performance of 
that which he has been assured that he must do. This is obviously 
due to the persistence of a certain degTee of self-directing power, 
which preserves to the imperfectly Biologized "subject" some 
little capacity of judging and acting for himself : but such volun- 
tary efforts may yet be defeated by the assumption of a more and 
more peremptory tone and manner on the part of the operator, 
who at last succeeds in impressing on the mind of his victim the 
assurance of the futility of further opposition. From henceforth 
(as we too often see in ordinary life, when a strong volition has 
brought a weak one into subjection to itself) the "subject'' 
becomes the mere slavish tool of his arbitrary will ; his actions 
being directly prompted by the ideas with which he is possessed, 
and thus falling into the category of ideo-motor (§ 235 et seq.) 
as distinguished from volitional. 

457. In like manner, what has been described as a control ot the 
ttnsations of the Biologized " subject," is really a control over his 
belief (§ 145). A glass of water is presented to him, and he is 
directed to drink it, with the assurance at the same time that it is 
milk, coffee, porter, wine, or any other liquid the operator may 



5 5 S ^f R(^verie and A bstr action ; — Electro- biology. 

choose to name. The liquid is tasted, and all the indications of ap- 
proval may be given by the " subject," who obviously believes most 
firmly that he is actually partaking of the liquor in question ; his 
Ideational consciousness being so fully " possessed " by the strong 
assurance which ha8 been conveyed to his mind through his sense 
of Hearing, that the impressions made by the liquid itself upon his 
eight and taste are not sufficient to correct the erroneous notion. 
Here, as in regard to control over the Muscular movements, a 
very curious result often presents itself, in consequence of the 
imperfect degree in which the mind of the "subject" is pos- 
sessed by the notion which the operator has endeavoured to 
impress upon him. He often, after tasting or looking at the 
liquid, expresses hesitation, or downright disbelief in the asserted 
metamorphosis ; and reiterated and very forcible assurances may 
be required to convince him that it is anything else than what 
it really is. Convinced, however, he usually is at last ; although 
it is a very curious fact that some Biologized "subjects," whose 
Muscular movements are entirely amenable to the control of 
the operator, never give up their Senses to his direction ; whilst, 
on the other hand, some of those who may be most successfully 
played-on as regards their Sensations, altogether resist the influ- 
ence of suggestion with respect to their Muscular movements, 
continuing to keep them under their own exclusive control. Nay, 
further, the Writer has seen instances in which the " subject " would 
believe himself to be tasting anything which the operator might 
please to assure him that he ought to taste, but was instantly dis- 
abused by looking at the liquid, if its appearance was inconsistent 
with that representation ; whilst, on the other hand, another would 
lee milk or porter, wine or coffee, as he was directed to see it, but 
would instantly set himself right when directed to taste the liquid. 
458. Nothing can be more amusing, however, than to experi- 
ment upon a "subject" who has no misgivings of this kind, bu.t 
wiiose Perceptive Consciousness is entirely given up to the direo- 



Determination of Pei^ceptions by Suggestion. 559 

tion of external suggestions. He may be made to exhibit all the 
manifestations of delight, which would be called forth by an 
unlimited supjDly of the viands or liquors of which he may happen 
to be most fond ; and these may be turned in a moment into 
expressions of the strongest disgust, by simply giving the word that 
the liquid which he is imbibing so eagerly is something which he 
holds in utter abomination. Or, when he believes himself to be 
di-inking a cup of tea or coffee, let him be assured that it is so 
hot that he cannot take more than a sip at a time, neither per- 
Buasion nor bribery will induce him to swallow a mouthful at 
once ; yet, a moment afterwards, if assured that he can do so 
without inconvenience, he will be ready to swallow the whole at a 
draught. Tell him that his seat is growing hot under him, and 
that he cannot remain upon it, however strongly he may endea- 
vour to do so ; and he will fidget uneasily for some time, and at 
List start up with all the indications of having really found his 
place no longer bearable. Whilst he is firmly grasping a stick in 
his hand, let him be assured that it will burn him if he continue 
to hold it, or that it is becoming so heavy that he can no longer 
sustain it, and he will presently drop it, with gestures conformable 
to the impression with which his mind is occupied. 

459. To those who would say " there is no proof that all this 
is not acted," or, "nothing can be easier than to pretend such 
obedience," it can only be replied, that as the proof rests upon 
the double basis of the conformity of the phenomena to known 
principles, and the character of the "subjects," — these phenomena 
having been frequently presented by individuals entirely beyond 
suspicion, who had never previously witnessed such experiments, 
and who were altogether incredulous with regard to the reality of 
this peculiar state, — their genuineness cannot be fairly called in 
question; even were they far more strange than they prove to be 
^hen carefully investigated. Those, on the other hand, who 
dispose of them by turning them over to the limbo of " imagina- 
40 



5 6o Of Reverie and A bstr action ; — Electro-biology. 

tion," have more reason on their side ; for it is quite true that 
the Biologized " subject " imagines himself to be something 
different from the reality, and that it is from his pei-verted con- 
ceptions that all his strange performances proceed. But it is 
clearly from the suspension of Volitional control over the direction 
of the thoughts, that the possibility of this perversion arises. 

460. It has been already shown (§§ 142-7, 186) that Senso- 
perceptions of various kinds may be excited in the mind, not 
merely by impressions made upon the corresponding organs of 
sense, but also by ideas with which the mind becomes possessed 
through other channels. And applying this principle (fully 
recognised by every Scientific Psychologist) to the case before 
us, we shall see that it affords the key which unlocks the 
whole of this part of the " biological " mystery. For when the 
" subject " is assured, whilst drinking a glass of water, that it is 
coffee or porter, that assurance, taking firm possession of his 
consciousness, produces the very same effect upon it, as would be 
induced by the actual contact of the liquid in question with his 
tongue and palate. He tastes it (so to speak) with his mind, 
though he does not taste it with his tongue ; and it is the 
mental, not the bodily impression, that constitutes the actual 
Perception. This false perception is not contradicted by the 
inconsistent impression transmitted from the Organ of Sense ; 
because it is the characteristic of the Biological state, that 
the mind of the " subject," being entirely possessed by the idea 
which may chance to be before it at the time, can entertam no 
other, and is incapable therefore of bringing it to the test of 
experience. And it thus becomes a mere question of the rela- 
tive strength of the two suggestions, — that conveyed by tlie 
assurances of the bystanders, and that derived from the sensory 
impression. The latter may prevail in the first instance, and may 
yet be overcome by the augmented force which the former will 
derive from repetition with added earnestness or vehemence. 



d 



Infiue7ice of Suggestion on Course of Thought, 56 1 

461. It is only necessary to glance at some of the most familiar 
features of Insanity, to be assured that the strangest perversions 
of Sense-perceptions exhibited by the Biologized " subject," have 
their counterparts in those morbid states in which the control- 
ling power of the will is altogether suspended, and the mind is 
possessed, not transiently but enduringly, by some " dominant 
idea" (§ 559). 

462. Passing now to the higher Psychical phenomena of the 
Biological condition, we find that even such of these as are most 
extraordinary, or even incredible, in the apprehension of the unin- 
structed observer, are readily explained on the same general prin- 
ciple. The operator assumes the power of controlling the Memory 
of his " subject f and proves that he possesses it, by assuring him 
that he cannot remember his own name, the first letter of the 
alphabet, or something else equally familiar. The " subject" ex- 
hibits a puzzled and somewhat vacant aspect, and confesses that 
he cannot recall the desiderated idea. Nothing is more simple 
than the explanation of this phenomenon, when we call to mind 
that the very simplest act of determinate Recollection involves a 
Volitional change in the direction of our thought, from the idea 
which may occupy the consciousness at the moment, towards that 
which it is desired to bring before it (§ 372). It must be within the 
experience of every one — if not to have forgotten his own name (as 
many " absent " gentlemen have done) — at any rate to have lost 
the recollection of some name, fact, or date, usually most familiar 
to the consciousness, and not at once to be able to find the clue for 
its recovery (§ 419). The state of the Biologized "subject" pre- 
cisely resembles this in kind, being simply more intense in degree. 
Entirely "possessed" as he is with the one idea which may at the 
time be present to his mind, and unable to escape from it by any 
determinate, act of his own, the " subject, " peremptorily assured 
tof his inability to remember the most familiar thing, surrenders 
iiimself to the conviction thus enforced upon him; even his owu 



562 Of Reverie and A ds traction ; — Electro-biology. 

name, or the first letter of the alphabet, being as much beyond 
the reach of his Mental apprehension, whilst his Volitional 
power remains thus paralysed, as a bunch of grapes lying on a 
plate at his side would be beyond the grasp of his hands, if h:3 
arms had been smitten with a complete palsy. In fact, there is a 
complete parallelism between his bodily and mental state, whilst ii3 
this condition ; the Will being temporarily withdrawn from control 
over both alike (§ 312). He is unable to lay hold of a bank-note of 
a hundred pounds, though offered him as a reward for his success- 
ful effort, if he has been completely possessed with the conviction 
that he cannot stretch out his arm towards it. And he is unable 
to lay his Mental grasp upon any idea, however familiar, if he has 
been completely possessed by the assurance that he cannot succeed 
in bringing it to his recollection. 

463. So, again, the loss of the sense of personal Identity, or the 
actual change of personality, which the Biological operator asserts 
that he is able to induce, and of which the Writer has seen some 
very amusing and (he is satisfied) genuine cases, is readily explicable 
upon the same principle of suggestion acting upon a mind entirely 
amenable to it, and not able by any effort of its own to escape from 
the idea thus forced upon it. Mr. A. is repeatedly assured that he 
is Mrs. B., or Mrs. C. is brought by reiterated assertion to the belief 
that she is Dr. D. ; their own Common Sense does not correct this 
absurd perversion, because the sense of personal Identity is de- 
pendent upon memory (§ 364), and they can recollect nothing when 
forbidden to do so ; and, when once under its domination, all their 
language and actions are conformable to their metamorphosed 
personality, or, at least, to their conception of it. (This state has 
its parallel in that of some of our greatest Actors — especially 
of the female sex — who become so completely engrossed in the 
" jiai-ts" they play, as to lose altogether, for the time, the sense of 
their own personality, and to he rather than to act the characters 
they have assumed.) It is not by any means in all Biologized 



Metamorphosis of Personality. 563 

** subjects" that we meet with a capability of being thus affected ; 
for there are many whose muscular movements, and whose ordinary 
course of thought and feeling, can be entirely directed by external 
suggestion, who yet obstinately cling to their own personality. 
But when the metamorphosis is made, it is usually complete ; and 
nothing can be more remarkable than the assumption of the 
tone, manner, habits of thought, forms of expression, and other 
characteristic peculiarities of the individual whose personality the 
" suj3Ject" has been made to assume. 

a. The Writer can never forget the intensity of the lackadaisical tone 
ia which a Lady thus metamorphosed into the worthy Clergyman on 
whose ministry she attended, and with whom she was personally 
intimate, replied to the matrimonial counsels of the Physician to 
whom he (she) had been led to give a long detail of his (her) hypo- 
chondriacal symptoms — *'A wife for a dying man, doctor!" No 
intentional simulation could have approached the exactness of the 
imitation, alike in tone, manner, and language, which spon- 
taneously proceeded from the idea with which the fair " subject" 
was possessed, that she herself experienced all the discomforts, whose 
detail she had doubtless frequently heard from the real sufferer. 

464. The precise counterpart of this condition is one of the com- 
monest forms of Insanity. Every large asylum contains patients 
who imagine themselves to be kings, queens, princes, lords, bishops, 
and the like ; nay, the metamorphosis may proceed to yet greater 
extremes, the lunatic persisting that he is the Holy Ghost, Jesus 
Christ, or even the Eternal Father. No reasoning can dispossess 
him of this conviction : because, whilst his mind remains possessed 
with this " dominant idea," all the arguments that can be employed 
are to his apprehension entirely irrelevant. And even in our ordi- 
liary experience of life, we meet with individuals who are possessed 
by notions scarcely less absurd, from which they cannot be driven 
by any appeals to their Common Sense, simply because the "domi- 
nant idea " presents itself to their consciousness with ' greater force 
than does any other that can be brought before it. 



564 Of Reverie and A bs traction ; — Electro -biology, 

4G5. So, again, by a judicious use of the principle of suggestion, 
the thoughts of the Biologized " subject " may be readily directed 
into any channel whatever by appropriate hints ; and descripti ns 
may be called forth, by leading questions, of any scene which the 
operator may choose to name. This " mental travelling," as it ha« 
been called, is not accomplished with equal readiness on the part 
of any " subject ; " and the manifestations of it, as given in the 
replies elicited, are obviously determined by the previous knowledge 
andhahiU of thought of the individual "subject," where they are not 
directly suggested by the words or tone of the questioner. 

The same Lady who underwent the metamorphosis into a hypo- 
chondriacal Clergyman, was kind enough to ascend in a balloon at 
the Writer's request, and to proceed to the North Pole in search of 
Sir John Fianklin, whom she found alive ; and her description of hia 
appearance and that of his companions was given with an inimitable 
expression of sorrow and pity. 

466. It has thus been shown by the analysis of the prin- 
cipal phenomena of the " Biological " state, how easily they 
may be all reduced to the one simple principle of suggestion, acting 
on a mind which has lost for a time the power of volitional 
direction ; and how much this state of mind, anomalous as it 
appears at first view, has in common with mental conditions with 
which every one is more or less familiar. Such being the case, there 
would seem no reason to doubt the genuineness of these phenomena, 
notwithstanding that, in particular instances, they may have been 
simulated for the purpose of satisfying the spectators at a public 
exhibition, or for the gratification of a love of fun or mischief on 
the part of the performer ; and the chief marvel lies in the dis- 
covery that a continued steady gaze at a fixed "object will induce 
this peculiar state in certain individuals, — chiefly such as are con- 
stitutionally predisposed to Abstraction or Reverie, or who possess 
that kind of imaginative power, which transports them without 



Induction of Sleep. 565 

effort into scenes and circumstances altogether different from those 
which really surromid them. The proportion of such individuaia 
is stated, by those who have extensively experimented upon this 
subject, to be from one in twelve to one in twenty ; so that in a 
company of fifty or sixty persons, there are pretty sure to be two 
or three who will prove to be good Biological " subjects," if they 
lake the appropriate means. The undue repetition of such 
experiments, however, and especially their frequent repetition 
upon the same individuals, are to be strongly deprecated ; for 
the state of Mind thus induced is essentially a morbid one ; and 
the reiterated suspension of that volitional power over the 
direction of the thoughts, which is the highest attribute of the 
Human mind, can scarcely do otherwise than tend to its permanent 
impairment. 

467. One of the most remarka,ble of all the phenomena of this 
condition, however, yet remains to be considered ; namely, the 
superind notion of genuine Slee'p, which may often be accomplished 
in a few minutes, or even seconds, by the expressed determination of 
the operator that the "subject" shall sleep, or even, in some cases, 
by the simple prediction that he will. This has been repeatedly 
witnessed by the Writer ; who has assured himself of the genuine- 
ness of the condition by all the tests he could venture to apply, 
as well as by his reliance upon the good faith of the parties operated 
on. Here, again, however, we find that the greatest apparent 
marvel disappears under an intelligent consideration of the case ; 
for the first great step in the induction of sleep — the reduction of 
the spontaneous activity of the mind — has been already gained by 
the antecedent process, which in many individuals will of itself 
produce the whole effect. And when the Biologized " subject " is 
left in a state of perfect inactivity, and the whole attention is con- 
centrated upon the idea of sleep, it seems quite consistent with 
our knowledge of the conditions which most favour the superven- 
tion of ordinary sleep, that the undisturbed and imperturbable 



566 Of Reverie and A bstraction ; — Electro -biology. 

monotony of impression, though continued but for a short time, 
should be adequate to produce the result. 

468. The duration of this Sleep, however, and the mode «of its 
termination, may be decided in a most remarkable manner by the 
impression made upon the minds of the "subject" before passing 
into it. If he be directed to go to sleep for a short time only, 
and to awake spontaneously, he will do so ; and the same result 
will ensue upon a like suggestion conveyed in other ways. 

a. Thus, the Writer has seen a lady sent off to sleep, by the conviction 
that a handkerchief held beneath her nose was charged with chloro- 
form ; the same symptoms were observable as if she had actually 
inhaled the narcotic vapour (which she had really done on two or 
three previous occasions), and she gradually passed into a state of 
profound insensibility, from which, however, she awoke spontaneously 
in the course of a few minutes, as she would have done had she been 
really ** chloroformed." But this same lady, having been put to 
sleep by the assurance of the operator that she could not remain 
awake for two minutes, and having also received from him the 
injunction not to awaken until called upon by him to do so, resisted 
all the "Writer's attempts to awaken her by any ordinary means he 
could employ ; showing no sign of consciousness when a large hand- 
bell was rung close to her ear, when she was somewhat roughly 
shaken, or when a feather was passed fully two inches up her nostril. 
Her slumber appeared likely to be of indefinite dui-ation; but it 
was instantly terminated by the operator's voice, calhng the lady 
by her name in a gentle tone. The Writer was assured by Sii 
James Simpson that in one instance a patient of his thus slept 
for thirty-five hours, with only two short intervals of permitted 
awakening. 

i69. The influence thus exerted over the duration of the Sleep 
and the mode of its termination, and the susceptibility of the " sub- 
ject ' to certain sensory impressions whilst utterly insensible to all 
others, are points of extreme interest ; and have a very important 
bearing on those phenomena of Mesmerism, which have been 
supposed to indicate a peculiar relation between the Mesmerizei 



IndiLction of Sleep. 567 

and liis "subject." That they are entirely conformable to certain 
well-known phenomena of Sleep and of natural Somnambulism, 
will be hereafter made apparent (§§ 480, 488). And whatever 
may be considered as the most feasible explanation of these 
facts, that same explanation will be found equally applicable to 
the phenomena now under consideration. Thus, when B goes 
to sleep at the suggestion or bidding of A, and is also told 
by A that she will awake spontaneously at a certain hour, which 
really happens, the case differs in no essential respect from that of 
the sleeper who spontaneously awakens in accordance with a pre- 
formed determination j the requisite state of mind being produced 
by the assurance of another, instead of by the intention of the 
individual herself. Or, again, when B is told, on going to sleep, 
that she is to awake at the sound of A's voice, and that no other 
sounds are to recall her to consciousness, all of which really occurs ; 
the case does not differ from those to be presently cited, except 
in the production of the peculiar susceptibility to the one kind of 
sound by a mental impression forced (as it were) upon the indivi- 
dual, instead of by the habit of attention to it. In the one 
instance, as in the other, the effect is obviously dependent upon the 
previous mental state of the " subject " of it ; and there is no need 
to refer it to any new or special force, so long as we have evidence, 
not merely of the spontaneous occurrence of such impressible states 
— exceptional though they be, — but of the possibility of inducing 
similar states in many to whom they are not habitual, by the 
adoption of a method which gives to the "dominant idea" a 
complete mastery over the mind into which it has been inlio- 

(luCtKl. 



CHAPTER Xy. 

OP SLEEP, DREAMING, AND SOMNAMBULISM. 

470. A large portion of the Life of every Human being is pstbc^J 
tn a state of more or less complete suspension of the Animal 
powers of sense and motion ; the continued maintenance of those 
powers requiring periodic intervals of repose, which seem to be 
employed in the removal of the products of the " waste " of the 
Nervous and Muscular tissues that is produced by the exercise of 
them, and in the repair of the deteriorated mechanism by Nutri. 
tive regeneration. The degree of this suspension, however, varies 
so greatly, as to render it inappropriate to include under one cate- 
gory all the states that are intermediate between ordinary pro- 
found Sleep and complete Wakefulness. And as, in the preceding 
Chapter, we have considered the most characteristic of those 
which may be regarded as modifications of the waking state, so 
we shall now treat of those of which sleep may be taken as the 
type. In so doing, it will be convenient to commence with the 
state of ordinary/ 'profound Sleep, which may be defined as one of 
complete suspension of sensorial activity : the consciousness of the 
Ego being neither excited by impressions made on the nerves of 
his external senses and transmitted upwards to his Sensorium, l or 
by the downward transmission through the nerves of his intern at 
Bciises of the i-esults of changes taking place in his Cerebrum (§ ±(}{)). 
The nativity of the entire Axial Cord beloiv the Sensorium, how- 
e ^^er, is not in the least diminished ; and thus not merely do the 
movement's of Respiration continue without interruption, while those 
of Swallowing may be excited by the appropriate stimulus (§ 48) ; 
but other reflex movements, not (lil^e the foregoing) directly related 



Adaptive Moveme7tts in Sleep, 569 

to the maintenance of the Organic functions, may be called-forth, 
with such a semblance of adaptiveness, that their performance is 
commonly regarded as indicative of a partial, though momentary, 
awakening. There is, however, no evidence that the conscious- 
ness of the sleeper is aroused, merely because he withdraws a limb 
from a som-ce of irritation, puts down his hand to rub any part of 
his body on which such an irritation is acting, or even turns round 
in his bed after lying long in the same position. For we find ample 
evidence in the results of experiments on Animals, and in patho- 
logical observations on Man, that secondarily-diMtomaXiQ. actions 
involving a combination or sequence of movements adapted to a 
definite purpose, may come to be performed without the least 
^Consciousness (§§ 67 — 71). 

It is said that the Dacoits or professional thieves of India have 
been known to steal a mattress from beneath a sleeper, by taking 
advantage of this tendency. They begin with intensifying his sleep, 
by gently fanning his face ; and then, when they judge him to be in 
a state of profound insensibility, they gently tickle whatever part of 
his body may lie most conveniently for their purpose. The sleeper 
withdrawing himself from this irritation towards the edge of the 
inattress, the thief again fans his face for a while, and repeats the 
tickling, which causes a further movement. And at last the sleeper 
edges himself ofiP the mattress, with which the thief makes away. 

471. It is characteristic, however, of this state, that while ordi- 
nary sense-impressions do not awaken the consciousness, the 
sleeper can be aroused to activity by impressions which are either 
in themselves of extraordinary strength, or which exert a special 
efiect on the nerve-centres in virtue of a peculiar receptivity of the 
latter (§480). And it is by this that natural deep is distinguished 
from the morbid state of insensibility termed coma; which, so 
l)ng as the suspended activity affects the Sensorium alone, 
resembles profound sleep in every particular, save that the patient 
cannot be aroused from it ; but in which, if the cause of it be 



5 7o Of Sleep, Dreaming, and Somnambulism, 

Biifficiently potent (as happens in apoplexy, narcotic poisoning, 
&c. ), the suspension of activity extends downwards to the Respira- 
toiy nerve-centres (§ 62), so that death ensues from the stoppage 
of the movements of breathing. Between these two conditions, 
however, there is every gradation. For the effect of an overdose 
of Opium or any other powerful narcotic, shows itself at first ia 
ordinary sleep, from which the patient may be aroused by calling 
him by name ; but he gradually becomes more and more insensible 
to sense-impressions of any kind, and at last no stimulus will draw 
from him the least manifestation of consciousness. Even natural 
sleep, when following upon extreme fatigue, may be so intensified 
as almost to resemble coma, as in the following examples : — 

a. It is on record, that, during the heat of the battle of the 
Nile, some of the over-fatigued boys fell asleep upon the deck : and 
during the attack upon Rangoon, in the Burmese War, the Captain 
of one of the steam-frigates most actively engaged, worn-out by the 
excess of continued mental tension, fell asleep, and remained perfectly 
unconscious for two hours, within a yard of one of his largest guns, 
which was being worked energetically during the whole period. 

h. So even the severest bodily pain yields before the imperative 
demand occasioned by the continued exhaustion of the powers of the 
sensorial centres : thus Damiens slept upon the rack during the 
intervals of his cruel sufferings ; the North American Indian at the 
stake of torture wiU go to sleep on the least remission of agony, and 
will slumber until the fire is applied to awaken him ; and the Mediscal 
practitioner has frequent illustrations of the same fact. 

c. Previously to the shortening of the hours of work, Factory- 
children frequently fell asleep whilst attending to their machines, 
although well aware that they should incur severe punishment by 
doing so. 

On the other hand, a series of gradational states between 
ordinary profound sleep and the condition of full activity of the 
animal and psychical powers, is often exhibited during the transi- 
tion from one to the other (§ 447) ; itS well in the process of 
going to sleep, as in that of awaking. Any attempt, there- 



State of the Brain-CircMlatio7i in Sleep, 571 

fore, to give a Physiological rationale of the difference between 
the sleeping and the waking states, must take account of these 
intermediate phases. 

472. There is strong reason to believe that in profound Sleep 
there is a greatly diminished activity of the Blood-circulati m 
through the Brain ; but whether that diminution is the cau^e^ 01 
the effect, of the diminished functional activity of the organ, is 
a question on which there is more ground for difference of 
opinioiL 

In the experimental inquiries of Mr. A. Durham, made by 
removmg (under chloroform) a portion of the skull of a dog, so as to 
expose the cortical layer of the Cerebrum, it wUs observed that as the 
effects of the chloroform passed off, and the animal sank into a 
natural sleep, the surface of the brain, which had previously been 
turgid with blood and inclined to rise into the opening through the 
bone, became pale, and sank below its level. On the animal being 
roused after a time, a blush seemed to start over the surface of the 
brain, which again rose into the opening through the bone. And as 
the ai/imal was more and more excited, the brain-substance became 
more and more turgid with blood, numerous vessels which were 
invisible during the sleep being now conspicuous, and those before 
visible being greatly distended. After a short time the animal was 
fed ; and when it again sank into repose, these vessels contracted 
again, and the surface of the brain became pale as before. — [Ouy's 
Hospital Reports, 1860, p. 153). 

h. Similar experiments, with the like results, have been made by 
Dr. W. A. Hammond, of New York. 

c. Dr. J. Hughlings Jackson having examined, by means of the 
ophthalmoscope, the condition of the retina during profound sleep, 
found it paler, and its arteries more contracted, than in the waking 
etate. — {Royal Lond. Ophthalm. Hosp. Reports). 

The value of this last observation depends, first, upon the fact 
that the retina may developmentally be regarded as a kind of 
off-shoot from the Optic Ganglion, with which it corresponds in 
Btructure (§ 38) ; and secondly, upon the circumstance that no 



572 Of Sleep, Dreaming, and Somnambulism. 

disturbance of the circulation was produced (as in Mr. Durham's 
experiments) by operative interference. — Now that the contraction 
of the vessels is the cau&e, not the effect, of the reduction of the 
Cerebral activity, may be fairly inferred from the fact alre^^dy 
stated, that the entire stoppage of the arterial flow produces 
immediate and complete insensibility (§ 41). And it has been 
found by the experiments of Dr. A. Fleming, that a state closely 
resembling profound sleep may be induced with great certainty, 
by simple compression of the carotid arteries in the neck : — 

"The best mode of operating is to place the thumb of each hand 
under the angle of the lower jaw, and, feeling the artery, to press 
backwards and obstruct the circulation through it. . . . It is some- 
times difficult to catch the vessel accurately ; but once it is fairly 
under the thumb, the effect is immediate and decided. There is felt 
a soft humming in the ears ; a sense of tingling steals over the body; 
and, in a few seconds, complete unconsciousness and insensibility 
supervene, and continue so long as the pressure is maintained. On 
its removal, there is confusion of thought, with return of the tingling 
sensation, and in a few seconds consciousness is restored. Tlie mind 
dreams with much activity, and a few seconds appear as hours, from the 
number and rapid succession of thoughts passing through the brain. The 
period of profound sleep, in my experiments, has seldom exceeded 
fifteen seconds, and never half a minute." — That the effect is not due 
to the obstruction of the internal jugular vein (which must be more 
or less compressed at the same time with the carotid artery), appears 
from the fact that it is most decided and rapid when the arterial 
pulsation is distinctly controlled by the finger, and some pallor shows 
itself in the face ; whilst it is manifestly postponed and rendered 
imperfect when an impediment to the return of the blood through the 
veins is indicated by any approach to lividity of the face. — [Brit, and 
For. Med.-Chirurg. Review, vol. xv., p. 530.) 

473. The Writer has thus come to agree with Mr. Charles 
H. Moore {On going to Sleep), that the state of Sleep is essentially 
dependent on a reduction of the enormous blood- supply which is 
essential to the functional activity of the Brain {\ 42); and that 



State of the Brain-Ciixtilation in Sleep. 573 

this reduction is effected by the control which the vaso-motor 
system of Nerves (§ 113) has over the calibre of the Arteries. That 
such a reduction may be suddenly effected, and may as suddenly give 
place to enlargement (as when a person turns pale and blushes 
by turns), is in accordance with the frequently sudden passage 
from waking to sleep or from sleep to waking : which is yet 
more remarkable in the state known as hysteric coma, — the 
supervention of which will sometimes interrupt a patient while 
speaking ; whilst its departure, after a longer or shorter period of 
complete insensibility, will show itself in her completion of the 
broken sentence, without any consciousness of the suspension. 
On the other hand, there is ample evidence that the passage from 
contraction to dilatation of the vessels, and from dilatation to 
contraction, may be gradual ; and this corresponds with the grada- 
tional passage between the sleeping and the waking state (§ 447). 
Moreover, if there should be a contracted state of the vessels of 
the part of the Sensorium which receives the nerves of the 
eodernal senses, whilst there should be an only partial reduction 
in the blood-supply of the portion which serves as the centre to 
the nerves of the internal senses, we have the rationale of the 
state of Dreaming ; in which there is consciousness of Cerebral 
changes, whilst there is none of sense-impressions. Finally, a 
strong Physiological probability in favour of this view* is afforded 

'" * It does not appear to the "Writer to be in any way opposed to it, that a state of 
Coma may be induced either by pressiire within tbe cranium, or by an obstruction 
to the free return of venous blood. For in tlse first of these cases, the pressure will 
produce a direct reduction of the arterial blood-supply, in consequence of tho 
unyielding nature of the brain-case : while in the second, the obstruction will 
ext-3iid b ckwards, so as to retard the flow of blood through the capillaries, even 
though they may bs themselves distended. And in the case d Asphyxia, it was 
long since shown by Dr. Kay (now Sir James Kay Shuttleworth), that the obstruc- 
tion to the passage of blood through the lungs gradually diminishes the stream 
which should pass back to the heart, and thence into the general circulation ; so 
that the left ii^e of the heart at ast becomes empty, and thijro is no blood at ail 
to be sent into the aii/c.iestf the Brain. 



5 74 ^f Sleep, Dreaming^ and Somnambulism. 

by the fact now clearly established, that the occasional increase of 
activity in many Glandular organs, is distinctly regulated by the 
"vaso-motor" system of Nerves (§ 565). 

474. When the ordinary waking activity has continued during 
a considerable proportion of the twenty-four hours, a sense of 
fatigue is usually experienced, which indicates that the Brain 
requires repose ; and it is only under some very strong physical or 
moral stimulus, that the Mental energy can be sustained through 
the whole cycle. In fact, unless some decidedly abnormal condi- 
tion of the Cerebrum be induced by the protraction of its functional 
activity. Sleep will at last supervene, from the absolute inability of 
the organ to sustain any further demands upon its energy, even in 
the midst of opposing influences of the most powerful nature. 
That the strongest Volitional determination to remain awake, is 
forced to give-way to sleep, when this is required by the exhaus- 
tion of nervous power, must be within the experience of every 
one ; and the only way in which the will can even retard its 
access, is by determinately fixing the attention upon some definite 
object (§ 118), and resisting every tendency in the thoughts to 
wander from this. It does not appear to be of any consequence, 
whether this exhaustion be produced by the active exercise of 
volition, reflection, emotion, or simple sensation ; still we find 
that the volitional direction of the thoughts, in a course diff"erent 
from that in which they tend spontaneously to flow, is productive 
of far more exhaustion than the automatic activity of the mind 
(§ 228) ; whilst, on the other hand, an excess of automatic activity, 
whether as regards the intellectual operations or emotional excite- 
ment, tends to prevent sleep. This is particularly the case when 
the feelings are strongly interested : thus, the strong desire to 
work-out a result, or to complete the survey of a subject, is often 
sufficient to keep-up the intellectual activity as long as may be 
requisite (a state of restlessness, however, being often induced, 
vhich prevents the access of sleep for some time longer) ; so, 



Conditions Predisposing to Sleep, 575 

again, anxiety or distress is a most frequent cause of wakeful- 
ness. It is generally to be observed that the state of suspense 
is more opposed to the access of sleep, than the greatest joy 
or the direst calamity when certainty has been attained : thua 
it is a common observation, that criminals under sentence of 
•ioath sleep badly, so long as they entertain any hopes of a 
leprieve; but when once they are satisfied that their ieath 
is inevitable, they usually sleep more soundly, and this even 
on the very last night of their lives.— But although an excess of 
iiutomatic activity is opposed, so long as it continues, to the 
coming-on of Sleep, yet it cannot be long protracted without 
occasioning an extreme exhaustion of nervous power, which 
necessitates a long period of tranquillity for its complete 
restoration. 

475. Whilst, however, the necessity for Sleep arises out of the 
state of the Nerve-centres, there are certain external conditions 
which favour its access ; and these, in common parlance, are termed 
its "predisposing causes." Among the most powerful of these, is the 
absence of sensorial impressions : thus, darkness and silence usually 
promote repose ; and the cessation of the sense of muscular effort, 
which takes place when we assume a position that is sustained 
without it, is no less conducive to slumber. There are cases, how- 
ever, in which the continumice of an accustomed sound is necessary, 
Instead of positive silence, the cessation of the sound being a 
complete preventive of sleep : thus it happens that persons living 
in the neighbourhood of the noisiest mills or forges, cannot readily 
sleep elsewhere ; for their Nerve-centres, having grown to a parti • 
cnlar set of constantly-recurring impressions (§ 138), are as mucli 
affected by the want of them, as those of ordinary persons are by 
their incidence. Again, the monotonous repetition of sensorial mi- 
pressions is often more favourable to sleep than their complete 
absence. Thus it is within the experience of every one, that tlie 
droning voice of a heavy reader on a dull subject, is often a most 



57^ Of Sleeps Drea7nmg, and Som^iambulism. 

effectual hypnotic ; in like manner, the ripple of the calm ocean on 
the shore, the sound of a distant waterfall, the rustling of foliage, 
the hum of bees, and similar impressions upon the auditory sense, 
are usually favourable to sleep ; and the muscular and tactile 
senses may be in like manner affected by an uniform succession of 
gentle movements, as we see in the mode in which nurses " hush 
off" infants, or in the practice of gently rubbing some part of the 
body, which has been successfully employed by many who could 
not otherwise compose themselves to sleep. The reading of a dull 
book acts in the same mode through the visual sense ; for the eyes 
wander-on from line to line and from page to page, receiving a 
series of sensorial impressions which are themselves of a very 
monotonous kind, and which only tend to keep the attention alive, 
in proportion as they excite interesting ideas. 

476. In these anv similar cases, the influence of external im- 
pressions would seem to be exerted in withdrawing the Mind from 
the distinct consciousness of its own operations (the loss of which 
is the transition-state towards that of complete unconsciousness), 
and in suspending the directing power of the Will. And this is 
the case, even where the attention is in the first instance voli- 
tionally directed to them ; as in some of the plans which have 
been recommended for the induction of sleep, when there exists no 
spontaneous disposition to it. Thus it has been recommended that 
the attention should be determinately fixed upon the respiratory 
acts; and that the entering air should be mentally followed in its 
course through the air-passages, down into the lungs, and then 
out again. In other methods, the attention is fixed upon some 
internal train of thought, which, when once set-going, may l>o 
carried-on automatically ; such as counting numbers, or repeating 
a French, Latin, or Greek verb. In either case, when the sensorial 
consciousness has been once steadily fixed, the monotony of the 
impression (whether received from the organs of Sense, or ii\:)m 
the Cerebrum) tends to retain it there ; so tliat the Will abandons, 



Conditions Predisposing to Sleep. 577 



A8 it were, all control over the operations of the mind, and allowa 
it to yield itself up to the soporific influence. This last method is 
peculiarly effectual, when the restlessness is dependent upon some 
mental agitation ; provided that the will has power to withdi-aw 
the thoughts from the exciting subject, and to reduce them to the 
tranquillizing state of a mere mechanical repetition. 

477. Though the access of Sleep is sometimes quite sudden, 
the individual passing at once from a state of complete mental 
activity to one of entire torpor, it is more generally gradual ; and 
various intermediate phases may be detected, some of which bear a 
close resemblance to the state of reverie (§ 447). When we try to 
compose ourselves to sleep, we " drop the reins '* of ovcc thoughts, 
and let them wander as they will ; and it sometimes happens that 
we find ourselves suddenly " puUed-up," as it were, by the strange 
incongruity between some idea which has been brought before our 
consciousness by suggestive association, and our Common Sense, 
which has not, as in dreaming, altogether abandoned its post 
of guardianship. So, the transition from the state of sleep to that 
of wakeful activity, may be sudden and complete, although it 
usually consists of a succession of stages ; the complete conscious- 
ness of the Ego's relation to the external world, and the power of 
directing his thoughts and actions to any subject about which he 
may be required to exert himself, being the last to retm'n to him. 
There may be a rapid alternation of these different states ; the losa 
and recovery of the waking consciousness being many times re- 
peated in the course of a few minutes, when the circumstances aro 
such as to prevent the access of profound sleep by the recurrence 
of sensory impressions : as when a man on horseback, wearied 
from want of rest, lapses at every moment into a dozing state, 
from which the loss of the balance of his body as frequently and 
suddenly arouses him. So, when a man going to sleep in a sitting 
postm'e gradually loses the support of the muscles which keep hia 
head erect, his head droops by degrees and at last falls forwardg 



578 Of Sleep, Dreaming^ and Somnamhdism. 

on his chest ; the slight shock thence ensuing partially arouses 
and restores his voluntary power, which again raises the head j 
and we see this 'partial awakening recur over and over again, with- 
out any complete awakening. Similar fluctuations occur in regard 
to sense-perceptions ; and these may be often artificially induced 
by very simple means. 

"We find, for example, one condition of sleep so light, that a 
question asked restores consciousness enough for momentary under- 
standing and reply ; and it is an old trick to bring sleepers into this 
state, by putting the hand into cold water, or producing some other 
sensation, not so active as to awaken, but sufficient to draw the mind 
from a more profound to a lighter slumber. This may be often 
repeated, sleep still goiug on ; but make the sound louder and moif 
sudden, and complete waking at once ensues. The same with other 
sensations. Let the sleeper be gently touched, and he shows sensi- 
bility, if at all, by some slight muscular movement. A ruder touch 
excites more disturbance and motion, and probably changes the 
current of dreaming ; yet sleep will go on ; and it often requires 
a rough shaking, particularly in young persons, before full wake- 
fulness can be obtained." * * * " It is certain that the faculties of 
sensibility and volition are often unequally awakened from sleep. 
The case may be stated, familiar to many, of a person sleeping in 
an upright posture, with the head falling over the breast ; in whom 
sensibility is suddenly aroused by some external impression, but 
vho is unable, for a certain time, to raise his head, though the 
sensation produced by this delay of voluntary action is singularly 
distressing." 

Thus, as Sir Henry Holland has justly remarked,* what we call 
Sleep is not a single state capable of being distinctly differentiated 
from that of waking activity; but is a gradational series of states, 
intermediate between that of complete possession of the mental 
faculties, and that of complete suspension of all psychical 

* See the excellent Chapter on '^ Sleep," from which the preceding extracts ar« 
taken, in his Medical Notes and Rcficctiuns, and his Chapters on Mental 
Physiology. 



Infitcence of Previous Expectation. 579 

fcctioru And among those intermediate states between sleep and 
waking, which either occur spontaneously, or can be induced in 
numerous individuals by very simple processes (§§ 449, 493), 
there are several which exhibit peculiarities that are not iu 
themselves at all less remarkable, than are those which are 
regarded with so much wonder by the uninformed observer^ 
when induced by the asserted Mesmeric influence, and paraded aa 
specimens of its power. (See § 469.) 

478. It is unquestionable that the supervention of Sleep may 
be promoted by the strong 'previous expectation of it; and this 
is true, not merely of ordinary natural sleep, but of the states 
of artificial Reverie and Somnambulism. Every one knows the 
influence of habit, not only in regard to " time," but also as to 
"place and circumstance," in predisposing to Sleep. Thus, the 
celebrated pedestrian Capt. Barclay, when accomplishing his extra- 
ordinary feat of walking 1000 miles in as many successive hours, 
obtained at last such a mastery over himself, that he fell asleep 
the instant he lay down. And the sleep of soldiers, sailors, and 
others, who are prevented by "duty" from obtaining regular periods 
of repose, but are obliged to take their rest at short intervals, may 
be almost said to come at command ; nothing more being necessary 
to induce it, than the placing the body in an easy position, and 
the closure of the eyes. It is related that the Abbe Faria, who 
acquired notoriety through his power of inducing Somnambulism, 
was accustomed merely to place his patient in an arm-chair, and 
then, after telling him to shut his eyes and collect himself, to pro- 
nounce in a strong voice and imperative tone the word " dormez," 
which was usually successful. The Writer had frequent oppor- 
tunities of satisfying himself, that the greater success which 
attended the Hypnotic mode of inducing Somnambulism (§ 493), 
in the hands of Mr. Braid, its discoverer, than in that of others, 
chiefly lay in the mental condition of his subjects, who came to him 
for the most part under the confident expectation of its productioiy, 



580 Of Sleep, Dreaming, and Somnambulism, 

and were further assured by a man of very determined will, that it 

muld not be resisted. And it is one of the most curious phenomena 
of the " Biological" state (§ 467), that, in many subjects at least, 
Sleep may be induced in a minute or less, by the positive assur- 
Mir,e, with which the mind of the individual becomes possessed, 
that it will and must supervene. (See also § 518.) 

479. The influence of previous Mental states is yet more 
remarkable, in determining the effects produced upon tht sleeper 
by different Sensory impressions. The general rule is, that habitual 
impressions of any kind have much less effect in arousing the 
Blumberer, than those of a new or unaccustomed character. An 
amusing instance of this kind has been related, which, even if 
not literally true, serves extremely well as an illustration of 
what is unquestionably the ordinary fact : — 

A gentleman, who had obtained a passage on board a ship of 
war, was aroused on the first morning by the report of the morning 
gun, which chanced to be fired just above his berth; the shock was 
BO violent as to cause him to jump out of bed. On the second 
morning, he was again awoke, but this time he merely started and 
sat-up in bed ; on the third morning, the report had simply the effect 
of causing him to open his eyes for a moment, and turn in his bed ; 
on the fourth morning, it ceased to affect him at all ; and his slum- 
bers continued to be undisturbed by the report, so long as he re- 
mained on board. 

It often happens that sleep is terminated by the cessation of an 
accustomed sound, especially if this be one whose monotony or 
continuous repetition had been the original inducement to repose. 
Thus, a person who has been read or preached to sleep, will awake, 
if his slumber be not very profound, on the cessation of the vo'ce; 
ami a naval ofl&cer, sleeping beneath the measured tread of the 
watch on deck, will awake if that tread be suspended. — In this 
latter case, the influence of the simple cessation of the impression 
will be augmented by the circumstance next to be alluded- to, 



A wakeni7ig Influence of Pa7^ tutelar Impressions. 5 8 1 

1^ hich is of peculiar interest both in a Physiological and Psychologi- 
cal point of view, and is practically familiar to almost every one. 

480. The awakening power of Sensory impressions is greatly 
modified by our Imbitual state of mind in regard to them. Thus, 
if we are accustomed to attend to these impressions, and o\xt 
piiTception of them is thus increased in acuteness, we are much 
more easily aroused by them, than we are by others which are ia 
themselves much stronger, but which we have been accustomed to 
disregard. 

a. Thus, most sleepers are awoke by the sound of their own 
names uttered in a low toiie ; when it requires a much louder 
sound of a different description to produce any manifestation of 
consciousness. The same thing is seen in comatose states ; a 
patient being often found capable of being momentarily aroused 
by shouting his name into his ear, when no other sound produces 
the least effect. — The Medical practitioner, in his first profound 
sleep after a laborious day, is awoke by the first stroke of the 
clapper of his r»ight-bell, or even by the movement of the bell- 
wire which precedes it. — The Telegraph-clerk, however deep the 
repose in which he has lost the remembrance of his previous 
vigils, is recalled to activity by the faintest sound produced by 
the vibration of the signalling needle, to whose indications he is 
required to give diligent heed. — The Mother, whose anxiety for 
her offspring is for a time the dominant feeling in her mind, 
is aroused from the refreshing slumber in which all her cares 
have been forgot, by the slightest wail of uneasiness proceeding 
from her Infant charge. 

These familiar facts cannot be explained upon the supposition that 
the sleep, prevented from becoming profound by the persistence 
of the previous excitement, is consequently interrupted by trifling 
disturbances : for in all these instances the sleeper may remain 
imaffected by much louder sounds, which have not the same rela- 
tion to his (or her) previous mental state : — 

h. Thus the Doctor's wife shall not be aroused by the full peal of 



582 Of Sleep, Dreaming, and So7nnamdulism. 

the night-bell, whose first tingle awakes her snoring husband ; and 
he may go forth upon his errand and return to his couch, without 
disturbing the slumbers of his partner. But her turn next comes ; 
the cries of her child arouse her maternal vigilance ; and she may 
spend hours in attempting to soothe it to repose, which are passed 
by her husband in a state of blissful unconsciousness. — This is no 
imaginary picture, but one of daily, or rather nightly, occurrence. 
It is the very familiarity of these facts, which prevents their import 
fiom being duly apprehended. 

The following remarkable example of this class of phenomena was 
mentioned to the Writer by the late Sir Edward Codrington : — 

c. When a young man, he was serving as Signal- lieutenant under 
Lord Hood at the time of the investment of Toulon ; and being 
desirous of obtaining the favourable notice of his commander, he 
applied himself to his duty — that of watching for signals made by 
the " look-out " frigates — with such energy and perseverance, that 
he often remained on deck eighteen or nineteen hours out of the 
twenty- four, going below only to sleep. During the few hours 
which he spent in repose, his slumber was so profound that no 
noise of an ordinary kind, however loud, would awake him ; and 
it used to be a favourite amusement with his comrades, to try 
various experiments devised to test the soundness of his sleep. 
But if the word " signal" was even whispered in his ear, he was 
instantly aroused, and was fit for immediate duty; the constant 
direction of his mind towards this one object, having given to the 
impression produced by the softest mention of its name, a power over 
his Brain which no other could exert. 

It seems impossible to account for these facts in any other way, 
than by attributing to the Nerve-centres a peculiar Physical 
receptivity for impressions of some particular class, which they 
Lave acquired in virtue of the previous direction of the mind 
to them. To affirm that it is the persistent conscioumiess of the 
Ego which makes the bram recej)tive to these impressions, is 
equivalent to saying that consciousness is never entirely suspended 
e\ ea during the most profound sleep. But although we have no right 



Awaking at Fixed Time. 583 

to affirm with certainty that the consciousness of cerebral changes 
is so suspended, yet the complete suspension of sensorial con- 
sciousness in profound sleep seems to be as clearly indicated as 
aiich a condition. can possibly be (§ 125). 

481. But it is not requisite that the Sensory impression should 
be one habitually attended to during the waking hours ; for it is 
geueraUy sufficient to produce the effect, that the attention should 
have been strongly fixed upon it, previously to the access of the 
sleep, as one at which the slumberer is to be aroused. Thus, the 
traveller who requires to set forth upon his journey at an early 
hour in the morning, and has given directions to be called accord- 
ingly, is awakened by a gentle tap at the door of his chamber ; 
although he may have previously slept through a succession of far 
louder noises with which he had no concern. And the student who 
has set his heart upon rising at a particular hour, in order to 
continue some literary task, is aroused by that recurrence of the 
stroke of the clock, although no other may have affected him 
throughout the night, and although he may have habitually slept 
to a later hour without being disturbed by it. Nay, more, there 
are many individuals who have the power of determining, at the 
time of going to rest, the hour at which they shall awake ; and 
who arouse themselves at the precise time fixed upon,— not from 
the restless sleep which such a determination would ordinarily 
induce (the Writer, for example, would be prevented by it from 
obtaining an hour of continuous repose through the whole night), 
but from a slumber that remains unbroken until the appointed 
time arrives. — This fact is even more significant than the pre- 
ceding ; and seems to point to a kind of unconscious chronometri/^ 
which is in some way connected with the sequence of the Organic 
functions (§ 82 d). The whole series of such phenomena has a 
peculiar interest, in connection with the pretensions advanced 
by Mesmerizers to exercise a special control over the "subjects'' 
of their manipulations. 



58d Of Sleeps Dreaming, and Som^iambulism. 

482. Breaming. — We have hitherto spoken of Sleep in its most 
complete or profound form ; that is, the state of complete uncon- 
sciousness. But with the absence of consciousness of external 
things there may be a state of Mental activity, of which we are 
more or less distinctly cognizant at the time, and of whith aur 
subsequent remembrance in the waking state varies greatly in com 
pleteness. The chief peculiarity of the state of dreaming appears to 
be, that there is an entire suspension of volitional control over the 
current of thought, which flows-on automatically, sometimes in a 
uniform, coherent order, but more commonly in a strangely in- 
congruous sequence. The former is most likely to occur, when the 
mind simply takes-up the train of thought on which it had been 
engaged during the waking-hours, not long previously ; and it may 
even happen that, in consequence of the freedom from distraction 
resulting from the suspension of external influences, the reasoning 
processes may thus be carried-on during sleep with unusual vigour 
and success, and the imagination may develope new and har- 
monious forms of beauty. 

a. Thus, Condorcet saw in his dreams the final steps of a difficult 
calculation which had puzzled him during the day ; and Condillao 
tells us that, when engaged in his "Cours d'Etude," he frequently 
developed and finished a subject in his dreams, which he had broken 
off before retiring to rest. Coleridge's dream-poem of Kubla Khan 
has been already noticed (§ 231c?); a similar occurrence happened in 
the Writer's own family ; and two cases of the like kind are given by 
Miss Cobbe {MacmillarCs Magazine, April, 1871). So the Sonata 
which Tartini thought in his dream that he heard the arch-fiend 
play at his request, and which he afterwards endeavoured to note 
down, was of course the production of his own brain. And the 
Writer has been assured by a distinguished artist, that he once had 
revealed to him in a Dream the solution of a difficulty which had 
been for some time puzzling him, as to the mode of working-out a 
part of a picture he was painting; the finished work presenting itsoli 
to his mental vision with such vividness, that, on awaking, he at 



Myth-making Tendency in Dreams. 58 5 

once went to his picture, and was able to record enough of the 
impression to guide him in its completion. 

The more general fact is, however, that there is an entire 
want of any ostensible coherence between the ideas which suc- 
cessively present themselves to the consciousness ; and yet, like 
tht " Biologized" subject (§ 455), we are completely unaware of 
the incongruity of the combinations which are thus formed. 
It has been well remarked that nothing surprises us in dreams. 
All probabilities of " time, place, and circumstance" are violated ; 
the dead pass before us as if alive and well ; even the sages of 
antiquity hold personal converse with us ; our friends upon the 
antipodes are brought upon the scene, or we ourselves are con- 
veyed thither, without the least perception of the intervening 
distance ; and occurrences, such as in our waking state would 
excite the strongest emotions, may be contemplated without the 
slightest feeling of a painful or pleasurable nature. 

h. "We have in dreams, as Miss Cobbe remarks {Macmillaris 
Magazine, Nov. 1870), a manifestation of that "myth-making" 
tendency of the human mind, which is continually " transmuting 
sentiments into ideas." Even during the wakiug state, our minds 
are ever at work of this sort, "giving to airy nothing" (or at 
least to what is merely a subjective feeling) "a local habitation 
and a name." The automatic action of the Brain during sleep 
proceeds on the same track. Our sentiments of love, hate, fear, 
anxiety, are each one of them the fertile source of a whole 
series of illustrative dreams ; which have their parallel in the 
delusions that spring out of any fixed emotional perversion in 
Insanity (§ 559). The difference between the two states, indeed, 
is only that the one is transient, the other persistent. " Dreams," aa 
the Laureate says, " are tme while they last," that is, they are true 
to U8, because it is our nature to believe in our own states of 
consciousness. But we awake, and "behold it was a dream." Our 
Common Sense at once repudiates its incongruities, how vivid soever 
our recollection of them may be ; and it is only when we feel that 
the occurrences might have taken place, that we are tempted to put 



586 Of Sleepy Dreaming, and Somnambiilism, 

the question to ourselves, " Did this really happen, or did I dream 
it l-"' — Of this tendency to compose ingenious fables explanatory 
of the phenomena around us, which has given rise to the Mythology 
of Greece and Eome, India and Scandinavia, &c., the effect of sense- 
impressions in shaping the course of Dreams gives a most remarkable 
tories of examples (§ 485). " Have we not here, then," (says Misa 
CV.bbe), "evidence that there is a real law of the human mind 
causing us constantly to compose ingenious fables explanatory 
of the phenomena around us, — a law which only sinks into 
abeyance in the waking hours of persons in whom the reason haa 
been highly cultivated, and which resumes its sway even over fheir 
well- tutored brains when they sleep ? " 

As the suspension of the power of forming Common Sense 
judgments prevents us from being struck with the improbabilities 
or impossibilities of our dreams, so the suspension of the' power 
of forming Moral judgments usually prevents any check of con- 
science from being felt, even by persons whose waking hours are 
profoundly imbued with moral feeling. 

" We commit in dreams," says Miss Cobbe ^oc. cit), "acts for which 
we should weep tears of blood if they were real, and yet never feel 
the slightest remorse. The familiar check of waking hours, * I must 
not do it because it would be unjust or unkind,' never once seems to 
arrest us in the satisfaction of any whim which may blow about our 
wayward fancies in sleep. A distinguished philanthropist, exer- 
cising for many years high judicial functions, continually commits 
forgery ; and only regrets the act when he learns that he is to be 
hanged. A woman whose life was devoted to the instruction of 
pauper children, seeing one of them make a face at her, doubled him 
up in the smallest compass, and poked him through the bars of the 
lion's cage. One of the most benevolent of men (the late Mr. 
iUchard Napier), who shared not at all in the enthusiasm of his 
warlike brothers ran his best friend through the body, and ever 
after recalled the extreme gratification he had experienced on seeing 
the point of his sword come out through the shoulders of his beloved 
companion." 

483. Thus it may be said that a great part of our cfream* 



Iiifltieiice of Past Impressions. 587 

consists in the exercise of oiir constructive Imagination (§ 396), 
working automatically without guidance or restraint. And the 
creative faculty, in those who possess it, occasionally evolves con- 
ceptions which seem to pass all experience (§ 408) ', though the 
subsequent memory of them is usually too vague to allow of their 
being turned to good account. — There can be no doubt that the 
materials of our di-eams are often furnished by the " traces" left 
upon the brain by occurrences long since past, which have com- 
pletely faded-out of the conscious memory. And there is similar 
reason for believing that the course of dreams is sometimes deter- 
mined by the ''traces" of impressions, which, if they ever really 
affected the consciousness of the Ego, did so in such a slight 
and transient manner as not to be at all remembered. 

Many curious instances are on record, in which particulars that the 
memory has been repeatedly and vainly called-on to retrace during the 
waking state, have presented themselves in dreams with great vivid- 
ness ; and thus lost documents have been recovered, and explanations 
have been furnished of perplexing difficulties. In some of these cases 
(of which an interesting collection will be found in Dr. Abercrombie's 
** Inquiries concerning the Intellectual Powers,") it would appear that 
the mind of the dreamer had worked upon suggestions which would 
not have given his waking thoughts the same direction. And it 
eeems probable that the limitation of the Cerebral action to one ^ et of 
impressions, gives to these, as in the state of attention, an unusual 
potency ; so that from this action ideas are evolved, which would not 
have suggested themselves through the 'Consciousness. It is probably 
in this mode that we are to explain (where the case is not one of 
mere coincidence) the fact of discoveries of crimes or of intended 
crimes being made through dreams ; some impression, or succession 
of impressions, having been left upon the Ego, which suggested 
nothing to his wakiny consciousness, but which took full possession 
of the limited capacity that remained to him when dreaming. — The 
following circumstance recently mentioned to the Writer by an 
eminent Judge, one of whose mental experiences has already been 
cited (§ 362), affords a characteristic illustration of this kind oi 



588 Of Sleep, Dreaming, mid Somnambulism, 

Cerebral action. Having been retained, before his elevation to the 
Bench, in a case which was to be tried in the North of England, ho 
plept at the house of one of the parties in it ; and dreamed through 
tbo night that lizards were crawling over him. He could not 
imagine what had suggested such an idea to his mind, until, on 
going into the apartment in which he had passed the evening, he 
noticed a mantel-piece clock on the base of which were figures of 
crawling lizards. This he must have seen without noticing it; and 
the sight must have left a "trace" in his brain, though it left 
no record in his conscious memory. 

484. One of the most remarkable of all the peculiarities in the 
state of Dreaming, is the rapidity with which trains of thought 
pass through the mind ; for a dream in which a long series of 
events has seemed to occur, and a multitude of images has been 
successively raised-up, has been often certainly known to have 
occupied only a few minutes, or even seconds, although whole 
years may seem to the dreamer to have elapsed. There would 
not appear, in truth, to be any limit to the amount of thought 
which may thus pass through the mind of the dreamer, in an 
interval so brief as to be scarcely capable of measurement ; as is 
obvious from the fact, that a dream involving a long succession of 
supposed events, has often distinctly originated in a sound which 
has also awoke the sleeper, so that the whole must have passed 
during the almost inappreciable period of transition between the 
previous state of sleep and the full waking consciousness.* Hence 
it has been argued by some, that all our dreams really take place 
in the momentary passage between the states of sleeping and 
flaking ; but such an idea is not consistent with the fact, thai the 

* The only phase of the waking state, in which any snch intensely-rapid sac* 
Cession of Thoughts presents itself, is that which is now well attested as a freqaeat 
occurrence, under circumstances in which there is imminent danger of Death, 
especially by Drowning ; the whole previous life of the individual seeming to be 
presented instantaneously to his view, with its every important incident vividly 
impressed on his consciousness, just as if all were combined in a picture, tb« 
whole of which could be taken-in at a glance. 



Influence of Sense-impressions, 589 

course of a dream may often be traced, by observing the successive 
changes of expression in the countenance of the dreamer, or 
by listening to the words he utters from time to time. It 
seems, however, that those dreams are most distinctly remem- 
bered in the waking state, which have passed through the mind 
d uring the transitional phase just alluded-to ; whilst those which 
occur in a state more allied to Somnambulism, are more com- 
pletely isolated from the ordinary consciousness. — There is a 
phase of the dreaming state, which is worthy of notice as marking 
another gradation between this and the waking state \ that, 
namely, in which the dreamer has a consciousness that he is 
dreaming, being aware of the unreality of the images which 
present themselves before his mind. He may even make a 
voluntary and successful effort to prolong them if agreeable, or 
to dissipate them if unpleasing ; thus evincing the possession of a 
certain degree of that directing power, the entire want of which is 
the characteristic of the true state of dreaming. 

485. But the sensibility to external impressions may not be 
entu-ely suspended in Dreaming; and it is curious that even 
where sensations are not perceived by the mind of the dreamer 
as proceeding from external objects, they may affect the course 
of its own thoughts ; so that the character of the dreams may 
he in some degree predetermined by such an aiTangement of 
sensory impressions as is likely to modify them. This is especially 
the case in regard to the dreamy state indiiced by certain nar- 
cotics, such as Opium, or Hachisch (§ 537) ; and as sense-im- 
pressions are here intensified in a most extraordinary degree, so 
.iocs it seem hkely that in ordinary dreaming the course of 
thought may be affected by sense-impressions too faint to be per- 
ceived at all in the waking state. ' 

Thus General Sleeman mentions that while charged to put down 
Thuggee in India, being in pursuit of Thugs up the country, his wife 
one morning urgently entreated him to move their tents from the 



590 Of Sleep, Dreaming, and Somnambulism. 

spot — a lovely opening in a jungle — where they had been pitched the 
previous evening. She said she had been haunted all night by the 
Bight of dead men. Information received during the day induced 
the General to order digging under the ground whereon they had 
camped ; and beneath Mrs. Sleeman's tent were found fourteen 
corpses, victims of the Thugs. " It is easily conceivable," says Misa 
Cobbe {loc. cit.), "that the foul odour of death suggested to the lady, 
in the unconscious cerebration of her dream, her horrible vision. 
Had she been in a state of Mesmeric trance, the same occurrence 
would have formed a splendid instance of supernatural revelation." 

Again, Dr. Reid tells us that having had his head blistered on 
account of a fall, and a plaster having been put on it which pained 
him excessively during the night, on falling asleep towai-ds morning 
he dreamed very distinctly that he had fallen into the hands of a 
party of Indians, and was scalped. Now here, as Miss Cobbe says, 
"the number of mental operations needful for the transmutation of a 
blintered head into a dream of Eed Indi^jns, is very worthy of remark. 
First, Perception of pain, and allotment of it to its true place in the 
body. Secondly, Reason seeking the true cause of the phenomenon. 
Thirdly, Memory suppressing the real cause, and supplying from its 
stores of knowledge an hj^pothesis of a cause suited to produce the 
phenomenon. Lastly, Imagination stepping in precisely at this 
juncture, fastening on this suggestion of memory, and instantly 
presenting it as Si talleau vivant, with proper decorations and 'local 
colour.' The only Intellectual faculty which remains dormant 
seems to be the Judgment, which has allowed Memory and Imagina- 
tion to work regardless of those limits of probability which would 
have been set to them awake. If, when awake, we feel a pain which 
we do not wholly understand, say a twinge of the foot, we speculate 
upon its cause only within the very narrow series of actual proba- 
bilities. It may be a nail in our boot, a chilblain, a wasp, or so on. 
It does not even cross our minds that it may be a sworn tormentor 
with red-hot pincers; but the very same sensation experienced asleep 
will very probably be explained by a Dream of the sworn tormentoi 
or some other cause which the relations of time and space rendei 
equally inapplicable." — [Macmillan's Magazine, April, 1871.) 

486. In ordinary Dreaming, then, there may be intense Cerebral 



Expressio7i of Dreams i7i Action. 591 

tctivity ; but this is entirely of the automatic kind. And it is quite 
possible that this activity may go on without affecting the conscious- 
ness of the sleeper, so as to evolve important ideational results, with- 
out any recollection on his part of having dreamed of them (§ 434 ). 
But, again, with the suspension of Sensorial activity, which seems 
more complete in regard to special than to common sensation, 
there is also an entire suspension of Muscular activity, save such 
as is piu-ely reflex (§ 69); the only movements which express 
what is going on within, being slight gestures or changes of 
coumenance. If the dreamer acts his dreams, that is, if the 
ideational or emotional state calls forth Muscular movemonts 
corresponding to it, we term the state not Sleep, but Somnam- 
'bulism, or sleep-walking ; this being the most common form of 
movement executed by the dreamer. Between the two states 
there is a gradational transition. There are many, for instance, who 
talk much in their sleep, yet never attempt to leave their beds and 
walk. And among ^lee^-talhei^s there are some who merely utter 
meaningless sequences of words, or strangely jumbled phrases, 
and are utterly incapable of being influenced by m,ggested ideas ; 
whilst there are others who give utterance to a coherent train of 
thought, still without any receptivity of external suggestion ; and 
others, again, obviously hear what is said to them, and attend to it 
or not according to the impression it makes upon them (§ 488). 

487. Somnambulism. — It seems common to every phase of this 
condition, that there is the same want of Volitional control over 
the current of thought, and the same complete subjection of the 
consciousness to the idea which may for a time possess it, as 
in dreaming : but the Somnambulist diff'ers from the ordinai-y 
dreamer in possessing such a control over his nervo-musciilar 
apparatus, as to be enabled to execute, or at any rate to 
attempt, whatever it may be in his mind to do ; while some of the 
inlets to sensation ordinarily remain open, so that the Somnam- 
bulist may hear^ though he does not see or feel, or may/(?e^, while 
42 



592 Of Sleep, Dreaming, and Somnambulisfn. 

he does not see or hear. The Muscular Sense, indeed, seer'.? 
always active ; and many of the most remarkable performances 
both of natural and of induced Somnambulism, seem referable to 
the extraordinary intensity with which impressions on it are per- 
ceived, in consequence of the exclusive fixation of the attention on 
its guidance (§ 128), — The phenomena of Somnambulism present 
a very curious diversity, which in some respects corresponds to the 
difference between Abstraction and Reverie (§§ 442, 443). Some- 
times, as in the former of these states, the Somnambulist's attention 
is so completely fixed upon liu own trains of tiiought, that he ia 
only conscious of such external impressions as are in harmony with 
them ; and a definite and connected sequence of ideas is not 
unfrequently followed-out, with a steadiness and consistency 
which contrasts very strikingly with the strange incongruities and 
abrupt transitions of an ordinary dream. When this is the case, 
we may usually trace the operation of some one dominant idea 
or feeling — the key-note (so to speak) of the entire piece, — to 
which all the thoughts which pass through the mind are related, 
and of which everything that is done by the body is an expression. 
A Mathematician will work out a difficult problem ; an Orator 
will make a most effective speech \ a Preacher will address an 
imaginary congregation with such earnestness and pathos as deejily 
to move his real auditors ; a Musician will draw forth most 
enchanting harmonies from his accustomed instrument ; a Poet 
will improvise a torrent of verses j a Mimic will keep the spec- 
tators in a roar of laughter at the drollness of his imitations. 
The Ileasoning processes may be carried on with remarkable 
a(;curacy and clearness, so that the conclusion may be quite 
sound, if the data have been correct and adequate ; and it is 
H very remarkable fact that their purely Automatic action in this 
state will frequently evolve conclusions which Volitional exertion 
has vainly striven to attain. The following are well-attested 
examples of this singular phenomenon ; in which not merely did 



Occasio7tal Coherence of Trains of Thotcght. 593 

solutions of the difSculties present themselves to the mind (as in 
dreaming, § 483), but these expressed themselves in appropriate 
bodily actions. — The first case is given by Dr. Abercrombie, on the 
authority of the family of a distinguished Scottish lawyer of tlie 

last age : — > 

a '* This eminent person had been consulted respecting a case 
of great importance and much difficulty ; and he had been study- 
ing it with intense anxiety and attention. After several days 
had been occupied in this manner, he was observed by his wife 
to rise from his bed in the night, and go to a writing-desk which 
stood in the bedroom. He then sat down, and wrote a long 
paper which he carefully put by in his desk, and returned to 
bed. The following morning he told his wife that he had had 
a most interesting dream ; — that he had dreamt of delivering 
a clear and luminous opinion respecting a case which had ex- 
ceedingly perplexed him ; and that he would give anything to 
recover the train of thought which had passed before him in his 
dream. She then directed him to the writing-desk, where he 
found the opinion clearly and fully written out ; and this was 
afterwards found to be perfectly correct." {Intellectual Powers^ 
5th Edit., p. 306.) 

The following was narrated by the Rev. John de Liefde, as the 
experience of a brother Clergyman, on whose veracity he could 
fully rely : — 

6. " I was a Student of the ]Mennonite Seminary at Amsterdam, and 
attended the Mathematical lectures of Professor Yan Swinden. Now, 
it happened that once a Banking-house had given the Professor 
a question to resolve, which required a difficult and prolix calcu- 
lation ; and often already had the Mathematician tried to find out 
the problem; but as, to effect this, some sheets of paper had to bo 
covered with figures, the learned man at each trial had made a 
mistake. Thus not to fatigue himself, he communicated the puzzle 
to ten of his students — me amongst the number ; and begged us to 
attempt its unravelling at home. My ambition did not allow me any 
delay. I set to work the same evening, but without success. 



594 Of Sleep, Dreaming, and Somnambulism. 

Another evening was sacrificed to my undertaking, but fruitless! \'. 
At last I bent myself over my figures for a third evening. It was 
winter, and I calculated till half-past one in the morning — all to no 
purpose ! The product was erroneous. Low at heart, I threw down 
my pencil, which already that time had beciphered three slates. 
T hesitated whether I would toil the night through, and begin my 
calculation anew ; as I knew that the Piofessor wanted an answer 
the very same morning. But lo ! my candle was already burning in 
the socket ; and, alas, the persons with whom I lived had long gone 
to rest. Then I also went to bed ; my head filled with ciphers ; and 
tired in mind I fell asleep. In the morning, I awoke just early 
enough to dress and prepare myself to go to the Lecture ; vexed at 
heart at not having been able to solve the question, and at having 
to disappoint my teacher. But, wonder! as I approach my writing 
table, I find on it a paper, with figures in my own hand, and (think 
of my astonishment !) the whole problem on it solved quite aright, 
and without a single blunder. I wanted to ask my ho&inta whether 
any one had been in my room ; but was stopped by my own 
writing. Afterwards I told her what had occurred, and she herself 
wondered at the event, for she assured me no one had entered my 
apartment. Thus I must have calculated the problem in my sleep, 
and in the dark to boot ; and what is most remarkable, the compu- 
tation was so succinct, that what I saw now before me on a single 
folio sheet, had required three slatefuls closely beciphered on both 
sides during my waking state. Professor Yon Swinden was quite 
amazed at the event, and declared to me that whilst calculating 
the problem himself, he had never once thought of a solution so 
simple and concise." {Notes and Queries, Jan. 14, 1860.) 

Another case of a similar kind has been lately communicated to 
the Writer, by the gentleman to whom he is indebted for hia own 
experiences of unconscious cerebration (§§ 422, 435) : — 

c. ** My father, when a student of Divinity at Basle, was required 
in due course to compose a discourse for public delivery on a given 
text of scripture. All power to grapple with the subject seemed gone 
from him ; and he was for days in a state of nervous agitation, 
unable to deal with the matter in any way satisfactory to himself. 
Ihe evening before the day of ordeal, he composed something, and 



i 



Occasional Coherence of Trains of Thought. 595 

lay down utterly disgusted with his performance. He fell asleep ; 
Jreamed of a novel method of handling and illustrating the suhject ; 
awoke ; leaped out of bed to commit the ideas to paper ; and, on 
opening his desk, found that they were so committed alieady in hii 
own writing, the ink being hardly dry." 

It is a frequent defect, however, of the Intellectual operations 
carrieA on in this condition, that, owing to their very intensity and 
t tclusiveness, the attention is drawn off from the considerationa 
which ought to modify them j and thus it happens that the result 
i& often palpably inconsistent with the teachings of ordinary experi- 
ence ; which, if they present themselves to the consciousness at 
all, are not perceived by it with sufficient vividness for the exercise 
of their due corrective influence. 

488. Now in this form of Somnambulism, there is usually as com- 
plete an insensibility as in ordinary sleep to all sensory impres- 
sions, excepting to si^A as fall-in with the existing current of ideas. 
No ordinary sights or sounds, odours or tastes, pricks, pinches, or 
blows, make themselves felt ; and yet, if anything be addressed to 
the sleep-talker through either of his senses, which is in harmony 
with the notion that occupies his mind at the time, he may take 
cognizance of it, and interweave it (as it were) with his web of 
thought, which may receive a new coloiu' or design therefrom. 

Thus a young lady was formerly known to the Writer, who, when 
at school, frequently began to talk, after having been asleep an houi 
or two ; her ideas almost always ran upon the events of the previous 
day ; and, if encouraged by leading questions addressed to her, she 
would give a very distinct and coherent account of them, frequently 
disclosing her own peccadilloes and those of her school -fellows, and 
expressing great penitence for the former, whilst she seemed to 
hesitate about making known the latter. To all ordinary sounds, 
however, she seemed perfectly insensible. A loud noise would 
awake her, but was never perceived in the sleep- talking state ; and 
if the interlocutor addressed to her any questions or observations 
that did not fall in with her train of thought, they were completely 



59^ Of Sleep, Dreaming, and Somnambulism. 

disregarded. By a little adroitness, however, she might be led ta 
talk upon almost any subject, — a transition heing gradually made from 
one to another, by ra.eans of leading questions. 

489. It is aD important and distinctive feature of the Somnambu- 
listic state, that neither the trains of thought which have passed 
through the mind, nor the actions which have resulted from 
tliem, are usually remembered in the waking state ; and that, 
if any recollection of them be preserved, they are retraced only 
as passages of an ordinary dream. Both the trains of thought 
and the occurrences of the somnambulistic state, however, are 
frequently remembered with the utmost vividness on the recurrence 
of that state, even at a very distant interval ; and of this interval, 
however long it may have been, there seems to be no conscious- 
ness whatever. The same thing happens, but more rarely, in 
ordinary dreaming; the dreamer sometimes recollecting a previous 
dream, and even taking it up and continuing its thread ; — a cir- 
cumstance which marks the close affinity of this state to that of 
somnambulism, since it is only when the dream-idea possesses the 
fixity and congruity characteristic of the latter, that it shows this 
tendency to recurrence. The following case, which happened in 
the Writer's own family, affords a good exemplification of the 
*' acted dream," and of the continuity of the impression from one 
such state to another, whilst it was altogether lost to the waking 
consciousness : — 

A Servant-maid, rather given to sleep-walking, missed one of h<>r 
combs ; and being unable to discover it, on making the most diligCBt 
search, charged the fellow-servant who slept in her room with having 
taken it. One morning, however, she awoke with the comb in her 
hand ; so that there can be no doubt that she had put it away on a 
previous night, without preserving any waking remembrance of the 
occurrence ; and that she had recovered it when the remembrance of 
its hiding-place was brought to her, by the recurrence of the state iu 
which it had been secreted. 



Possession by Dominant Ideas, 597 

490. Many of the most characteristic features of this form of 
SomnambuHsm are presented by the following case, which occurred 
within the Writer's own experience : — 

The subject of it was a young lady of highly nervous tempera- 
E ont ; and the affection occurred in the course of a long and trying 
illness, in which all the severest forms of hysterical disorder had 
successively presented themselves. The state of Somnambulism 
usually supervened in this case upon the waking state ; instead of 
arising, as it more commonly does, out of the condition of ordinary 
Bleep. — In this condition, her ideas were at first entirely fixed upon one 
subject, the death of her only brother, which had occurred some years 
previously. To this brother she had been very strongly attached ; 
she had nursed him in his last illness ; and it was perhaps the return 
of the anniversary of his death, about the time when the somnam- 
bulism first occurred, that gave to her thoughts that particular 
direction. She talked constantly of him, retraced all the circum- 
stances of his illness, and was unconscious of anything that was 
said to her which had not reference to this subject. On one occasion 
she mistook her sister's husband for her lost brother ; imagined that 
he was come from heaven to visit her ; and kept up a long con- 
versation with him under this impression. This conversation was 
perfectly rational on her side, allowance being made for the funda- 
mental error of her data. Thus she begged her supposed brother to 
pray with her ; and on his repeating the Lord's Prayer, she inter- 
rupted him after the sentence "forgive us our trespasses," with the 
reraark, "But you need not pray thus; your sins are already 
forgiven." Although her eyes were open, she recognized no one in 
this state, — not even her own sister, who, it should be mentioned, had 
not been at home at the time of her brother's last illness. 

On another occasion it happened that, when she passed into this 
condition, her sister, who was present, was wearing a locket con- 
taining some of their deceased brother's hair. As soon as she 
perceived this locket, she made a violent snatch at it, and would not 
be satisfied until she had got it into her own possession, when she 
began to talk to it in the most endearing and even extravagant 
terms. Her feelings were so strongly excited on this subject, that it 
was judged prudent to check them ; and as she was inaccessible 



5 J^ 0/ Sleeps Dreammg, and Somnambulism. 

to all entreaties for the relinquishment of the locket, force was 
employed to obtain it from her. She was so determined, however, 
not to give it up, and was so angry at the gentle violence used, that 
it was found necessary to abandon the attempt ; and having become 
calmer, after a time, she passed off into ordinary sleep. Before 
going to sleep, however, she placed the locket under her pillow, 
remarking, " Now I have hid it safely, and they shall not take 
it from me." On awaking in the morning, she had not the slightest 
consciousness of what had passed ; but the impression of the excited 
feelings still remained ; for she remarked to her sister, " I cannot tell 

what it is that makes me feel so ; but every time that S comes 

near me I have a kind of shuddering sensation," the individual named 
being a servant, whose constant attention to her had given rise 
to a feeling of strong attachment on the side of the invalid, but who 
had been the chief actor in the scene of the previous evening. 
This feeling wore off in the course of a day or two. 

A few days afterwards, the somnambulism again recurred ; and 
the patient, being upon her bed at the time, immediately began to 
search for the locket under her pillow. In consequence of its having 
been removed in the interval (in order that she might not, by 
Rccidentally finding it there, be led to inquire into the cause of its 
presence, of which it was thought better to keep her in ignorance) 
she was unable to find it ; at which she expressed great disappoint- 
ment, and continued searching for it, with the remark, " It must be 
there ; I put it there myself a few minutes ago, and no one can have 

taken it away." — In this state, the presence of S renewed her 

previous feelings of anger ; and it was only by sending S out 

of the room, that she could be calmed and induced to sleep. 

This patient was the subject of many subsequent attacks, in every 

one of which the anger against S revived ; until the current of 

thought changed, no longer running exclusively upon what related 
to her brother, but becoming capable of direction by suggestiom 
of various kinds presented to her mind, either in conversation, oi\ 
more directly, through the several organs of sense. 

491. Here, then, we perceive the complete limitation of the 
consciousness to the one train of ideas which was immediately 
connected with tho object of strong affection, and the want of 



Possession by Dominant Ideas. 599 

receptivity for all impressions which did not call forth a responsive 
association in the Somnambulist's mind. Her recognition of the 
locket which her sister wore, when she did not recognize the wearer, 
wB'i extremely curious ; and may be explained in two modes, each 
of them in accordance with the known facts of somnambulism. 
Either the concentration of her thoughts on this one subject 
caused her to remember only that which was immediately connected 
with her brother; while her want of recognition of her sister 
might be due to the absence of the latter at the time of his 
death, which caused her to be less connected with him in the 
thoughts of the patient. Or it may have happened that she was 
directed to this locket by the sense of Smell, which is frequently 
exalted in the hypnotic state to a very remarkable degree ( § 498). 
The continuity of the train of thought from one fit to the next, was 
extremely well marked in this instance ; and the prolongation of 
the emotional disturbance throughout the interval, without any 
idea as to the caiise of that disturbance, is a feature of peculiar 
interest, as showing that some organic impression must have been 
left by the mental operations of the Somnambulist, of which her 
waking consciousness could take no ideational cognizance. — The 
personal experience of most persons will furnish them with facts of 
the same order : a sense of undefined uneasiness often remaining 
as a consequence of a troubled dream, of whose course there is 
no definite remembrance ; and this uneasiness sometimes mani- 
festing itself especially in regard to certain persons or objects, the 
sight of which calls forth a vague recollection that they have been 
recently before the mind in some peculiarly disagreeable associa- 
tion. When the entire engrossment of the thoughts by some one 
subject, and the intensity of their occupation upon it, which 
constitute the characteristic features of Somnambulism, are ke])! 
in mind, it is not surprising that the impressions which they leave 
behind should possess a remarkable degree of strength, and should 
re-act with unwonted potency. 



6oo Of Sleeps Dreaming^ and Somnambulis^n, 

492. But there is another and very different phase of the Som- 
nambidistic state, in which the mind, though not less possessed 
f<jr the time by its own idea than it is in the preceding form 
is yet capable of having the direction of its thoughts, and con 
Bequently of the bodily actions which they prompt, readily 
altered by external impressions. Between these two forms, 
again, there is every shade of transitional gradation ; the 
facility with which the mind of the somnambulist is amenable 
to the guidance of external Suggestions, being always inversely 
proportional to the degree in which it is possessed by some 
one dominant idea. 

a. Of the form of natural Somnambulism in which the influence 
of external impressions is complete, so that all the actions of the 
subject of it are performed in respondence to them, the case of the 
Officer who served in the expedition to Louisburgh in 1758 (given 
by Dr. Abercrombie, on the authority of Dr. James Gregory), is an apt 
illustration. This is frequently spoken of as a case of Dreaming ; 
but as the dream was acted ^ it most legitimately falls under the 
present head. The course of this individual's dreams could be 
completely directed by whispering into his ear, especially if this was 
done by a friend with whose voice he was familiar (another illustra- 
tion of the fact that the consciousness of sensory impressions in this 
condition is in great degree governed by the degree of attention 
habitually paid to them in the waking state) ; and his companions in 
the transport were in the constant habit of thus amusing themselves 
at his expense. "At one time they conducted him through the whole 
progress of a quarrel, which ended in a duel ; and when the parties 
were supposed to be met, a pistol was put in his hand, which he 
fired, and was awakened by the report. On another occasion they 
found him asleep on the top of a locker or bunker in the cabin, when 
they made him believe he had fallen overboard, and exhorted him to 
eave himself by swimming. He immediately imitated all the 
motions of swimming. They then told him that a shark was pur- 
suing him, and entreated him to dive for his life. He instantly did 
so, with such force as to throw himself entirely fiom the locker upon 
the cabin floor, by which he was much bruised, and awakened o{ 



Artificial I ndtution of Somnambulism. 601 

course. After the landing of the army at Louisburgh, his frienda 
found him one day asleep in his tent, and evidently much annoyed 
by the cannonading. They then made him believe that he was 
engaged, when he expressed great fear, and showed an evident 
disposition to run away. Against this they remonstrated, but at tho 
game time increased his fears, by imitating the groans of the 
wounded and the dying; and when he asked, as he often did, who 
was down, they named his particular friends. At last they told him 
that the man next to himself in the line had fallen, when he instantly 
sprang from his bed, rushed out of the tent, and was aroused from 
hie danger and his dream together by falling over the tent-ropes. 
After these experiments he had no distinct recollection of his dreams, 
but only a confused feeling of oppression and fatigue, and used to 
tell his friends that he was sure they had been playing some trick 
upon him." — {Intellectual Powers, 5th Edit., p. 278) 

493. Induced Somnambulism, or Hypnotism. — We have now to 
consider the phenomena of a state which bears the same relation to 
the preceding, that the "Electro-Biological" bears to Reverie and 
Abstraction ; its peculiarity consisting in its being artificially in- 
duced. The method, discovered by Mr. Braid, of producing this state 
of artificial Somnambulism, which was appropriately designated by 
him as Hypnotkm, consists in the maintenance of a fixed gaze, for 
several minutes consecutively, on a bright object placed some- 
what above and in front of the eyes, at so short a distance that the 
convergence of their axes upon it is accompanied with a sense 
of effort, even amounting to pain. This process, it will be at once 
])eieeived, is of the same kind as that employed for the induc- 
tion of the "Biological" state (§ 449) ; the only difference lying in 
I he greater intensity of the gaze, and in the more complete concen- 
tration of Will upon the direction of the eyes, which the neaier 
approximation of the object requires for the maintenance of the 
convergence. — In Hypnotism, as in ordinary Somnambulism, no 
remembrance whatever is preserved in the waking state, of 
anything that may have occurred during its continuance; although 



6o2 Of Sleep, Dreaming, and SoimtamdMlism, 

the previous train of thought may be taken up and continued un- 
interruptedly, on the next occasion that the hypnotism is induced. 
And when the mind is not excited to activity by the stimuluvS of 
external impressions, the hypnotized subject appears to be pro- 
foundly asleep ; a state of complete torpor, in fact, being usualJjF 
the firs,t result of the process just described, and any subsequent 
manifestation of activity being procurable only by the prompting 
of the operator. The hypnotized subject, too, rarely opens his 
eyes ; his bodily movements are usually slow ; his mental opera- 
tions require a considerable time for their performance ; and 
there is altogether an appearance of heaviness about him, which 
contrasts strongly with the comparatively wide-awake air of him 
who has not passed beyond the ordinary " Biological " state. 

494. In regard to the influence of external Suggestion in directing 
the current of thought and action, the two states are essentially 
the same ; and it is unnecessary, therefore, to repeat with re- 
gard to Hypnotism what has been already described so fully. 
There seems, however, to be a state of greater concentration about 
the Hypnotized somnambule, than exists in the Biologized 
subject. The whole man seems given to each perception. No 
doubts or difficulties present themselves to distract the attention ; 
and, in consequence, there is a greater apprehensiveness for 
suggestions, and their results are more vividly displayed. This is 
the case especially in regard to emotional states, which are aroused 
with the greatest facility, and which can be governed by a 
word, or even by a tone, or — as Mr. Braid discovered — by the 
Bul'ject's own Muscular sense, which suggests to his mind ideas 
or feelings corresponding to the attitude or gesture into whicb 
he may be brought by the operator. Thus, if the hand be placed 
upon the top of the head, the Somnambulist w^ill frequently, of hia 
own accord, draw his body up to its fullest height, and throw his 
head slightly back ; his countenance then assumes an expression 
of the most lofty pride, and his whole mind is obviously possessed 



Phenomena of Hypnotism. 603 

by that feeling. Where the first action does not of itself call 
forth the rest, it is sufficient for the operator to straighten the 
legs and spine, and to throw the head somewhat back, to arouse 
that feelhig and the corresponding expression to its fullest intensity. 
During the most complete domination of this emotion, let the 
head be bent forward, and the body and limbs gently flexed ; and 
Ihe most profound humility then instantaneously takes its place. 
Of the reality and suddenness of these changes the Writer is fully 
assured, not only from having been an eye-witness of them on 
various occasions, but also from the reliance he places on the 
testimony of an intelligent friend, who submitted himself to Mr. 
Braid's man:|mlations, but retained enough self-consciousness and 
voluntary power to endeavour to- exercise some resistance to their 
iufluence at the time, and subsequently to retrace his course of 
thought and feeling. This gentleman declares that, although 
accustomed to the study of character and to self-observation, he 
could not have conceived that the whole mental state should have 
undergone so instantaneous and complete a metamorphosis, as he 
remembers it to have done, when his head and body were bent 
forward in the attitude of humility, after having been drawn to 
their full height in that of self esteem. These phenomena are 
most graphically described by Dr. Garth Wilkinson, in the 
following extract : — 

a. "The preliminary state is that of Abstraction produced by fixed 
gaze upon some unexciting and empty thing (for poverty of object 
engenders abstraction), and this abstraction is the logical premise of 
what follows. Abstraction tends to become more and more abstract, 
narrower and narrower ; it tends to unity, and afterwards to nullity. 
There, then, the patient is, at the summit of attention, with no 
object left, a mere statue of attention, a listening, expectant life ; a 
perfectly undistracted faculty, dreaming of a lessening and lessening 
mathematical point ; the end of his mind sharpened away to nothing. 
What happens? Any sensation that appeals is met by this brilliant; 
attention, and receives its diamond glare ; being perceived with a 



f)04 Of Sleep, Dreaming, and Soninamhdism, 

force of leisure of which our distracted life affords only the rudiments. 
External influences are sensat-^d, sympathized with, to an extra- 
ordinary degree ; harmonious music sways the body into graces the 
most affecting ; discords jar it, as though they would tear it lirab 
from limb. Cold and heat are perceived with similar exaltation r so 
also smells and touches. In short, the whole man appears to he given 
fe> each perception. The body trembles like down with the wafts of 
the atmosphere ; the world plays upon it as upon a spiritual 
instrument finely attuned. 

h. ' ' This is the natural Hypnotic state, but it may be modified 
artificially. The power of suggestions over the patient is excessive. 
If you say, ' What animal is it ? ' the patient will tell you it is a 
lamb, or a rabbit, or any other. * Does he see it?' * Yes.' 
'What animal is it now V putting depth and gloom into the 
tone of now, and thereby suggesting a difference. ' Oh ! ' with a 
shudder, ' it is a wolf ! ' * What colour is it ? ' still glooming the 
phrase. 'Black.' 'What colour is it noiu V giving the now a 
cheerful air. ' Oh ! a beautiful blue ! ' spoken with the utmost 
delight. And so you lead the subject through any dreams you 
please, by variation of questions and of inflections of the voice ; and 
he sees and feels all as real. 

c. " Another curious study is the influence of the patient's postures 
on his mind in this state. Double his fist, and pull up his arm, if 
you dare, for you will have the strength of your ribs rudely tested. 
Put him on his knees, and clasp his hands ; and the saints and 
devotees of the artists will pale before the trueness of his devout 
actings. Raise his head while in prayer, and his lips pour forth 
exulting glorifications, as he sees heaven opened and the majesty of 
God raising him to his place ; then in a moment depress the head, 
and he is dust and aishes, an unworthy sinner, with the pit of hell 
yawning at his feet. Or compress the forehead, so as to wrinkle it 
vertically, and thorny-toothed clouds contract in from the very 
horizon ; and, what is remarkable, the smallest pinch and wrinkle, 
such as will lie between your nipping nails, is sufficient nucleus to 
crystallize the man into that shape, and to make him all foreboding ; 
as, again, the smallest expansion in a moment brings the opposite state, 
with a full breathing of delight. Eaise the head next, and ask (if it 
be a young lady) whether she or some other is the prettier ; and 



I 



S^iggestion through Musctclar Sense. 605 

observe the inexpressible hauteur, and the puff sneers let off from 
the lips, which indicate a conclusion too certain to need utterance. 
Depress the head, and repeat the question, and mark the self- 
abauoment with which she now says, ' She is,' as hardly worthy to 
make the comparison. In this state, whatever posture of any 
passion is induced, the passion comes into it at once, and dramatizes 
the body accordingly." — (" The Human Body and its Connection with 
Man;' p. 473.) 

495. The suggestion of the ideas connected with particular actions, 
through the same channel, is not less curious. Thus, if the hand 
be raised above the head, and the fingers be bent upon the palm, 
the notion of climbing, swinging, or pulling at a rope, is called 
up ; if, on the other hand, the fingers are bent when the arm is 
hanging at the side, the idea excited is that of lifting some object 
from the gi'ound ; and if the same be done when the arm is 
advanced forwards in the position of striking a blow, the idea of 
fighting is at once aroused, and the Somnambulist is very apt to 
put it into immediate execution. On one occasion on which the 
Writer witnessed this result, a violent blow was struck, which 
chanced to alight upon a second somnambulist within reach ; his 
combativeness being thereby excited, the two closed, and began 
to belabour one another with such energy that they were with 
difficulty separated. Although their passions were at the moment 
80 strongly excited, that, even when separated, they continued to 
utter furious denunciations against each other, yet a little discreet 
manipulation of their muscles soon calmed them, and put them 
into perfect good humour. 

49 5. Not only may the Mind be thus played upon through imprefi' 
sions commimicated to it from the body, but it can re-act ii]v n 
the body in a way which at first sight appears almost incrediblo, 
but which is in ])erfect conformity with the principles already laid 
down (§ 267). Thus, an extraordinaiy degree of power may be 
thrown into any set of Muscles, by assuring the Somnambulist 



6o6 Of Sleep, Dreaming, and Somnambulism. 

that the action which he is called upon to perform is one which he 
can accomplish with the greatest facility. The Writer saw one of 
Mr. Braid's hypnotized subjects — a man so remarkable for the 
poverty of his physical development, that he had not for many 
years ventured to lift a weight of twenty pounds in his ordinary 
state — take up a quarter of a hundred- weight upon his little finger, 
and swing it round his head with the greatest apparent facility, 
upon being assured that it was as light as a feather. On another 
occasion he lifted a half-hundred weight on the last joint of his 
fore-finger, as high as his knee. The personal character of this 
individual placed him, in the opinion of those to whom he was 
well known, above all suspicion of deceit ; and the impossibility of 
any trickery in such a case would be evident to the educated eye, 
since, if he had practised such feats (which very few, even of tiie 
strongest men, could accomplish without practice), the effect 
would have made itself visible in his muscular developmeiit. 
Consequently, when the same individual afterwards declartid 
himself unable, with the greatest effort, to lift a handkerchief 
from the table, after having been assured that he could not 
possibly move it, there was no reason for questioning the truth of 
his conviction, based as this was upon the same kind of suggestion 
as that bv which he had been just before prompted to what seemed 
an otherwise impossible action (§ 454). It is well known to Physio- 
looists, that in our ordinary Volitional contraction of any muscle, 
we do not employ more than a small part of it at any one time ; 
whilst, on the other hand, every experienced Medical practitioner 
knows that in Convulsive contraction far more force is often put 
forth, than the strongest exertion of the will could bring into 
action. 

497. In like manner may various other Muscular movements be 
induced, by the exclusive direction of the Somnambule's attention 
to their performance, of which the same individual would net be 
capable in the natural state. One of the most remarkable of these 



Exalted Sensibility in Hypnotized Subjects. 607 

phenomena was the exact imitation of Mademoiselle Jenny Lind'a 
vocal performances, which was given by a factory girl, whose 
musical powers had received scarcely any cultivation, and who 
could not speak her own language grammatically. The Writer 
was assured by most competent witnesses, that this girl, in the 
hypnotized state, followed the Swedish Nightino-ale's songs in 
dilferent languages so instantaneously and correctly, as to both 
words and music, that it was difficult to distinguish the two 
voices. In order to test the powers of this Somnambule to the 
utmost, Mademoiselle Lind extemporised a long and elaborate 
chromatic exercise, which the girl imitated with no less precision, 
though in her waking state she durst not even attempt anything 
of the sort 

498. So, again, the Writer has seen abundant evidence that 
the sensibility of a Hypnotized subject may be exalted to an 
extraordinary degree, in regard to some particular class of 
impressions ; this being due, as before, to the concentration 
of the whole attention upon the objects which excited them. 
Thus he has known a youth in the hypnotized state find 
out, by the sense of Smell, the owner of a glove which was 
placed in his hand, from amongst a party of more than 
sixty persons ; scenting at each of them one after the other, 
until he came to the right individual. In another case, the 
owner of a ring was unhesitatingly found out from amongst a 
company of twelve ; the ring having been withdrawn from the 
finger before the Somnambule was introduced. The Writer has 
seen other cases, again, in which the sense of Temperature was 
extraordinarily exalted, — very slight differences, inappreciable to 
ordinary touch, being at once detected ; and any considerable 
change, such as the admission of a current of cold air by the open- 
ing of a door, producing the greatest distress. — Some of the most 
remarkable examples of this kind, however, are afforded by that 

exaltation of the muscular Sense, which seems to be an almost 

43 



6o8 Of Sleeps Dreaming, and Somnambulism, 

constant character of the Somnambulistic state, replacing the 
sense of sight in the direction of the movements (§ 128). That 
Sleep-walkers can clamber walls and roofs, traverse narrow planks, 
step firmly along high parapets, and perform other feats which thejf 
would shrink from attempting in their waking state, is simply 
because they are nxit distracted by the sense of danger which their 
Vision would call-up, from concentrating their exclusive attention 
on the guidance afforded by their Muscular sense (§ 192). 

499. Many pages might be filled with the record of such marvels, 
which present themselves alike in natural, and in artificial or 
induced Somnambulism : but all such phenomena are easily 
reducible to the general principles we have already laid down 
as characteristic of this state ; — namely (1), the entire engross- 
ment of the Mind with whatever may be for a time the object of 
its attention; so that sensory impressions are perceived with 
extreme vividness, long-forgotten ideas retraced with the most 
remarkable distinctness, and muscular movements performed with 
extraordinary energy and the most precise adaptiveness ; — and (2) 
the 'passive receptivity of the Mind (when not previously engrossed 
by some dominant idea of its own) for any notion that may be 
suggested to it ; the particular course which such suggested train 
of ideas will take, being much influenced by the temperament of 
the "subject," and by the previous habits of thought and feeling. 

500. But there is one point that was brought into prominent relief 
by Mr. Braid's experiments, which is too important, on account of 
its bearing on the supposed curative powers of Mesmerism and 
Spiritualism, to be passed by in this general sketch. The influence 
of the state of " expectant attention " upon the Organic functions 
of the body (Chap. XIX.) being fully admitted among scientific 
Physiologists, there need be no difficulty in making the further 
admission, that the peculiar concentration of the attention which 
can be obtained in the Hypnotic state, should produce still more 
striking results. And there is nothing in the least degree in- 



Influence of Hypnotism on Organic Functions, 609 

credible, therefore, in the phenomena which Mr. Braid recorded, 
many of which the Writer himself witnessed. The pulsations 
of the heart and the respiratory movements may be accelerated 
or retarded; and various secretions may be altered both in quantity 
ftud quality, of which the following is a striking example : — 

a. A lady, who was leaving off nursing from defect of milk, ths baby 
being thirteen months old, was hypnotized by Mr. Braid ; and whilst 
she was in this state he made passes over the right breast to call her 
attention to it. In a few moments her gestures showed that the 
baby was sucking, and in two minutes the breast was distended with 
milk, at which, when subsequently awakened, she expressed the 
greatest surprise. The flow of milk from that side continued most 
abundant ; and, in order to restore symmetry to her figure, Mr. 
Braid subsequently produced the same change on the other ; after 
which she had a copious supply of milk for nine months. 

The removal of morbid deposits under the same influence, seema 
quite as well attested as the charming-away of warts (§ 570), and 
the Physiologist who holds with the illustrious Miiller, that " an 
idea that a structural defect will certainly be removed by a certain 
act, increases the organic action in the part," will see no inherent 
improbability in the following statement : — 

6. A female relative of Mr. Braid was the subject of a severe rheu- 
matic fever, during the course of which the left eye became seriously 
implicated, so that after the inflammatory action had passed away, 
there was an opacity over more than one half of the cornea, which 
not only prevented distinct vision, but occasioned an annoying dis- 
figurement. Having placed herself under Mr. Braid's hypnotic treat- 
ment for the relief of violent pain in her ai-m and shoulder, she found, 
to the sm-prise alike of herself and Mr. B., that her sight began to 
improve very perceptibly. The operation was therefore continued 
daily ; and in a very short time the cornea became so transparent 
that close inspection was required to discover any remains of the 
opacity. — [Neurliypnology y p. 175.) 

The Writer has known other cases, in which secretions that had 



6io Of Sleep, Dreaming, and Somnambulism, 

been morbidly suspended, have been re-induced by this process ; and 
is satisfied that, if applied with skill and discrimination, it would 
take rank as one of the most potent methods of treatment 
wlkich the Physician has at his command. The channel of influence 
k; oV viously the vaso-motor system of Nerves ; which, though not 
directly under subjection to the Will, is peculiarly a&cted by Ea;>- 
lional states (§§113, 565). 



CHAPTEK XYI. 

OP MESMERISM AND SPIRITUALISM. 

"Wlieu the Mind is once pleased with certain things, it drains &I1 othura to 
lonsent, and go along with them ; and though the power and number of instances 
that make for the contrary, are greater, yet it either attends not to them, or 
despises them, or else removes them by a distinction, with a strong and pernicious 
prejudice to maintain the authority of the first choice unviolated. And hence in 
most cases of Superstition, as of Astrology, Dreams, Omens, Judgments, &c., 
those who find pleasure in such kind of vanities, always observe where the event 
answers, but slight and pass by the instances where it fails, which are much the 
more numerous.''^ — Bacon, in Novum Organon. 

501. "What to Believe?" as to that diversified series of 
phenomena termed " Mesmeric" and "Spirituahstic,** is a question 
which most persons have at times asked themselves during the 
last few years ; and to which the responses have varied with 
the amount of information possessed by each questioner, with his 
previous habits of thought, and with his tendency to creduhty or 
to scepticism, — his love of the marvellous and occult, or his 
desire to bring everything to the test of Science and Common 
Sense. 

502. Some there are, who persist in the determination to dis- 
believe in the genuineness oiall the asserted facts; designating them 
as " all humbug," and maintaining that none but fools or knaves 
could uphold such nonsense. Such persons, however, must now 
find themselves in the unenviable predicament of being obliged 
to place some of their best friends in one or other of these two 
categories; since it is impossible to go into any kind of society 
literary or scientific, professional or lay, gentle or simple, without 
finding a large proportion of intelligent and truthful persons, 
tiuch as would be regarded as trustworthy on all other subjects, 



6x2 Of Mesmerism a7td Spiritualism,. 

who affirm that they have been themselves the actors in some 
or other of the performances in question, and that, however strange 
the phenomena may seem, they are nevertheless genuine. 

503. Others, again, admit such of the facts as seem to them least 
repugnant to Common Sense ; but, without attempting to give any 
rati-'Tial explanation of these, consider that they have sufficiently 
dispv^sed of them by characterising them as "all Imagination:" 
not informing us, however, whether it be the actors or the spectatm'Sy 
whose imaginative facuJty has been worked upon ; or in what 
way the mysterious performances of a clairvoyante or a medium 
are related to those glorious creations, which have sprung from 
the legitimate exercise of the imaginative faculty in a Shakspere 
or a Milton, a Mozart or a Beethoven, a Raffaelle or a Turner. 

504. The members of the Medical profession, accustomed to the 
vagaries of Hysteria, and recognizing the hysterical constitu- 
tion in a large proportion of the subjects of Mesmeric and 
Spiritualistic agency, have too generally satisfied themselves with 
the phrase *' all hysterical :" a reply which affords no real in- 
formation to those inquirers who think that their doctors ought 
to help them to a solution of such difficulties, and which has now 
been fully proved to be incorrect by the fact, that steady, sensible, 
middle-aged men, having all their wits about them, are sometimes 
found to be as good subjects of certain of these operations, as 
tlie susceptible young females w^ho are deservedly regarded with 
80 much suspicion. 

505. Then there is a class of 'partial believers, who admit that 
there is "something in it" — they cannot exactly tell what; and 
who are sorely puzzled between the dictates of their own Common 
Sense, and the assurances pressed on them, that what they find 
rather too strong for their belief, is just as well authenticated as 
wliat they profess themselves disposed to receive. 

506. And the ascending series is terminated by that assemblage of 
horough-going believers, who find nothing too hard for " spiritual*' 



Different Phases of Belief, 613 

agency, nothing improbable (much less impossible) in any of ita 
reputed performances ; and who recognise in the wondrous revela- 
tions of a clairvoyante or a medium, and in the dispersion of a 
tumour, — in the communications of departed spirits with their 
Burviying friends, and in the rotation of a table, — in the induction 
of profound insensibility during the performance of a severe 
operation, and in the oscillations of a suspended button, — in the 
subjugation of the actions of one individual to the will of another, 
and in the flexure of a hazel twig, — in everything, in short, great 
and email, which they cannot otherwise explain, — the manifesta- 
tions of some "occult" power, to be ranked among the Cosmical 
forces, but not to be identified with any one of those previously 
admitted ; which is capable, not only of raising heavy tables from 
the ground, and keeping them suspended in the air, but of making 
musical instruments play without being touched by visible hands, 
and even of transporting living men and women through the air, 
and bringing them into apartments of which all the entrances 
had been securely closed. 

507. It is a phenomenon ot no small interest to the student of 
Human Nature, that from the first of these classes the transition 
should often be immediate and abrupt to the last. Every one 
has heard of determined scoffers, who, having been teased into 
*' assisting " at a Mesmeric or a Spiritualistic seance, have left it 
metamorphosed into true believers; and the conversion of these 
individuals is triumphantly cited by the partisans of these 
systems, as a bright example of the progress of truth. Magna 
est Veritas, et prevalebit, is their continual cry ; and we are assured 
that we have only to witness the facts as these have done, to be 
ourselves convinced. — But it requires no great discrimination to 
Bee that little value is to be attached to opinions thus embraced. 
There is a class of persons who begin by straining at gnats, and 
end by swallowing camels. At first they take exception to every- 
tliing, declare there must be fraud somewhere, and consequently 



fi T 4 Of Mesmerism and Spirihcalism. 

refuse their confidence to any one of the parties concerned ; but 
then, having allowed themselves to be put in communication with 
a clairvoyant or a medium, are so staggered by the wonderful 
revelations they receive, that they pass at once to the oppcaite 
extreme, and seem to yield their belief the most readily to that 
which makes the largest demands upon their credulity. It is an 
old observation that some of the greatest sceptics in Religion are 
the most credulous in other matters ; and of one such person it was 
happily said by a distinguished wit, that "She believes anything 
that is not in the Bible." It is, in fact, from the very same 
disposition to jump at important conclusions, without due exami- 
nation, — to hazard a decision, where a sound judgment would still 
hold the balance free to oscillate — to give up the entire mind to 
any idea which makes a strong impression upon it, without 
opening it to the reception of those considerations which might 
modify, if not entirely metamorphose, its condition, — ^that a large 
proportion of Mankind become utter sceptics on the one hand, 
or thorough-going believers on the other. A feather's weight 
will often turn the scale, when it is vibrating between these two 
states. 

508. The antithesis to this condition is presented by those sincere 
and earnest seekers after Truth, who see in the class of facts under 
consideration a group of natural phenomena strongly calling for 
scientific and painstaking investigation ; who enter upon the inquiry 
with all the assistance that a knowledge of Physiology and Patho- 
logy, mental as well as bodily, can afford them : and with minds 
1 rained in those habits of philosophical scrutiny, which are far more 
\ aluable than any amount of mere knowledge ; — who commence 
with the systematic study of the phenomena which are least 
r«;moved from the previous circle of admitted principles, and, if 
satisfied of their reality by careful and testing investigations, set 
tliemselves to consider whether they can be legitimately brought 
Within that circle, or whether Its radius may be fairly lengthened s* 



Diffe7^e7it Phases of Belief. 615 

&s to comprehend them, or whether it is necessary to have recourse 
to the hypothesis of a new and hitherto unknown agency for their 
CYplanation ; — who are not ashamed to halt and hesitate, when they 
cannot obtain the definite basis which they require for a sound 
decision ; — and who thus proceed, step by step, clearing the ground 
a& they advance ; so that the way they have already made is 
rendered plain to all who may come after them, and the most pro- 
mising paths are opened for further researches. 

509. Now, to this class of inquirers, whom the true Philosopher, 
whatever be his special object of pursuit, welcomes as his most 
valuable coadjutors, Mesmerists and Spiritualists have ever 
6h)wn a decided repugnance. *' All or nothing" seems to be the 
motto of the latter, who act as if a rational explanation of any one 
of their marvels were a thing to be deprecated rather than 
welcomed. In order to reconcile this discouraging treatment with 
their loud professions of readiness to court investigation, they have 
been obliged to have recourse to the hypothesis, that, just as a 
damp atmosphere around an electrical machine prevents a high 
state of electric tension from being maintained, the presence of even 
a candid sceptic weakens the Mesmeric or the Spiritual force ; 
and this, not merely when he manifests his incredulity by his lan- 
guage, his tones, his looks, or his gestures, but even when he keeps 
it concealed beneath the semblance of indifference. 

The following are the rules laid down, by M. Deleuze [Histoire 
Critique du Magnetisme Animal, 1813), for the attainment of curative 
Burcess: — "Forget for a while all your knowledge of Physics and 
Metaphysics. — Dismiss from your mind all objections that may occur. 
—Imagine that it is in your power to take the malady in hand, and 
throw it on one side. — Never reason for six weeks after you have 
commenced to study. — Remove from the patient all persons who might 
be troublesome to you. — Have an active desire to do good, a firm 
b'ilief in the power of Magnetism, and an entire confidence in employ- 
ing it. In short, repel all doubtS; desire success, and act with sim- 
plicity and attention." — This is tantamount to saying, " Be vei-j 



6 1 6 Of Mesmerism and Spiriticalism. 

credalous; be very persevering; reject all past experience; and do 
not listen to reason." 

510. It is attributable, then, to the difficulties which honest 
truth-seeking investigators have encountered, through finding 
thsmselves disqualified by their very scepticism, from evoking the 
phenomena of which they were in search, and through being treated 
as enemies, or (at best) as suspicious allies, by those to whom they 
might naturally look for what they require, that they are not in a 
position to elucidate all the marvels which are continually being 
brought before the public, by witnesses whose truthful testimony as 
to what they themselves believe must be accepted as valid, if Human 
testimony is to be accepted on any subject whatever. For it is thp 
experience of the Writer, as it is of many of his sceptical friends, 
that none of the marvellous phenomena which are related to them 
as of indubitable occurrence, can be brought to recur in their pre- 
sence ; so that the evidence on which they are called upon to 
believe in their actual occurrence, entirely consists in the helief of 
others, as to matters on which it has been amply proved, (§§ 142-147) 
that there is an extraordinary tendency to self-deception and inac- 
curacy of memory (§ 365) under the influence of " dominant ideas." 

511. The most important contribution to the elucidation of 
what is really true in Mesmeric, and (by anticipation) in Spiritual- 
istic phenomena, was undoubtedly that made by the researches of 
Mr. Braid, on that state of artificial or induced Somnambulism 
to which he gave the appropriate designation of Hypnotism, and 
of which the principal features were described in the last chapter. 
For while this condition may be induced by the individual himself 
(or herself), without any external agency whatever, its phenomena 
are so essentially the same with those of the (so-called) Mesmeric 
Somnambulism, as to afford the most valuable assistance in the 
analysis of the real nature of the latter. Many grave sources of 
error have thus been eliminated ; for not merely do we at once 
get rid — so far as the phenomena in question are concerned—- 



Relation of Mesmeric to Biological State. 617 

of any pretext for the assumption of a new and special force 
passing forth from the eyes or finger-ends of the operator nto 
tho body of his subject, but we are also able to select our 
own subjects from among a large body of individuals, of 
bII ranks, ages, and temperaments, who are found to preaent 
the requisite susceptibility \ we can vary the conditions of our 
experiments at our pleasure, so as to educe the greatest variety 
of results for comparison with each other ; and we can apply any 
tests we may be able to devise, for discriminating between the 
fictitious and the real, the acting of a part, and the natural expres- 
sion of the subject's genuine state of mind. 

512. It has been shown that the Hypnotized subject, like 
the natural or the mesmeric Somnambulist (§ 494), is entirely 
destitute of the power of seZ/-direction over either his ideas, his 
feelings, or his actions ; and seems entirely amenable to the 
will of another^ who may govern the course of his subject's 
thoughts at his own pleasure, and may thus oblige him to 
perform any actions which he may choose to determine. The clue 
to the real nature of this condition, however, having been found by 
Mr. Braid, in the undisturbed and concentrated operation of that 
principle of suggestion, which has long been well known to Psy- 
chologists, he subsequently, under the guidance of this idea, fol- 
lowed-up the investigation of its varied manifestations with great 
zeal and intelligence. The general result of these investigations 
was to give a definite basis for the study of the reputed phenomena 
of both Mesmerism and Spiritualism ; enabling the inquirer who is 
armed with the knowledge of them to distinguish what is probable 
from what is incredible, — what may be readily admitted as Scientific 
truth, from what must be unhesitatingly rejected as depending 
either on fraud or on self-deception. 

513. In the first place, then, it may be freely admitted that Mes- 
merized subjects have exhibited all the phenomena which are 
identical with, or analogous to, those which are presented in the 



6 1 8 Of Mesmerism and Spirihcalism, 

Btates of Electro-biology and Hypnotism ; the artificial reverie 
and somnambulism which are produced by the Mesmerist, being 
in all essential particulars the same as those which are self-induced 
by the fixation of the vision. A state resembling the Biological 
jeverie can be induced by Mesmerism, as well as the condition 
of true Somnambulism; and it may be witnessed in somnam- 
bules who have not been completely restored to the natural com- 
mand of their faculties, — any direction given to them being 
automatically obeyed, although they had been awakened in the 
ordinary mode. It is unquestionable, moreover, that the mode 
m which these conditions are usually produced by the Mesmerizer, 
is such as to produce a monotony of impression and a fixation of 
the attentio7i. Some, for instance, content themselves with 
directing the subject to gaze fixedly at their eyes ; the effect of 
which will be presumably the same as that of looking at a shilling in 
the hand, or at Mr. Braid's lancet-case. In fact, the "lively young 
lady" formerly referred to (§ 454) was "biologized" either by 
staring at her own fingers or at the eyes of the operator ; and the 
effect was precisely the same in both cases, her ra/pport with the 
operator being as complete in the one case as in the other. Other 
Mesmerizers employ certain strokings and waftings of the hand, 
termed " passes j " and these have a two-fold effect, serving to 
produce that monotony of impression which is favourable to the 
access of the sleep, and also to direct the attention of the patient 
towards any part upon which it may be intended specially to 
act. 

514. All the ordinary methods of the Mesmerist, then, may be 
legitimately considered to act in the manner in which they operate 
when practised by those who employ them merely as means of 
lU'ing the attention of the "subject;" and their efficacy may bo 
fairly explained on the principles already so fully dwelt on. The 
question of any mysterious Magnetic or other dynamical agency, 
wiiich is the fundamental article of faith in the Mesmeric cr ed 



Phenomena Dependent on Expectancy, 6 1 g 

must, therefore, be decided by quite a different kind of evidence ; 
— that, namely, which should demonstrate the possibility of the 
induction either of the somnambulistic state, or of some other 
characteristic phenomenon, without any consciousness on the jxtri 
of the ^^ subject'' that any agency was being exerted. 

515 The Writer does not hesitate to express the conviction, 
based on long, protracted, and careful examination of the evidence 
adduced to prove the existence of a Mesmeric force acting inde- 
pendently of the consciousness of the " subject," that there is none 
which possesses the least claim to acceptance as scientific truth. It 
is far more difficult to guard against sources of fallacy, — arising out 
of the guesses or anticipations at which the " sensitives " are mar- 
vellously ready, and the unconscious intimations of what is expected, 
of which they are wonderfully alert in taking advantage (not inten- 
tionally but suggestively), — than most persons who have not care- 
fully studied these phenomena are at all aware: and those who go 
into the inquiry with a prepossession that the result will be affirma- 
tive, are certainly not those who are to be trusted as to their exclu- 
sion of all possibilities of error. It has been repeatedly found that 
Mesmerizers who had no hesitation in asserting that they could 
send particular individuals to sleep, or affect them in other ways 
by an effort of " silent will," have altogether failed to do so when 
the subjects were carefully kept from any suspicion that such will 
was being exercised ; whilst, on the other hand, sensitive subjects 
have repeatedly gone to sleep under the impression that they ivere 
being mesmerized from a distance, when the supposed Mesmeriaor 
was not even thinking of them. 

516. The following experiment, one of several tried by Dr. Noblo 
of ManchcvSter, is worthy of being cited in detail; as affording a good 
illustration of the precautions which are needed to obtain trust, 
worthy results : — 

*' An intelligent and well-educated friend had a female servant, 
whom he had repeatedly thrown into a sleep-waking state, aud on 



6 2 o Of Mesmerism and Sp iritualism. 

wliom. he had tried a variety of experiments, many of which we 
ourselves witnessed We were at length informed that he had 
succeeded in magnetizing her from another room, and without her 
knowledge ; that he had paralysed particular limbs by a fixed gazo, 
unseen by the patient ; and we hardly know what besides. Thesfl 
things were circumstantially related to us by many eye-witnesses ; 
amongst others, by the medical attendant of the family, a moat 
respectable and intelligent friend of our own. We were yet unsatis- 
fied : we considered that these experiments were so constantly going 
on, that the presence of a visitor, or the occurrence of anything 
unusual, was sure to excite expectation of some Mesmeric process. 
We were invited to come and judge for ourselves, and to propose 
whatever test we pleased. Now, had we visited the house, we should 
have felt dissatisfied with any result ; we therefore proposed that the 
experiment should be carried out at our own residence ; and it was 
made under the following circumstances : — The gentleman, early one 
evening, wrote a note, as if on business, directing it to ourselves. 
He thereupon summoned the female servant (the mesmeric subject), 
requesting her to convey the note to its destination, and to wait for 
an answer. The gentleman himself, in her hearing, ordered a cab, 
stating that if any one called he was going to a place named, but 
was expected to return by a certain hour. Whilst the female 
servant was dressing for her errand, the master placed himself in the 
vehicle, and rapidly arrived at our dwelling. In about ten minutes 
afterwards the note arrived, the gentleman in the meantime being 
secreted in an adjoining apartment. We requested the young 
woman, who had been shown into our study, to take a seat whilst we 
wrote the answer ; at the same time placing the chair with its back 
to the door leading into the next room, which was left ajar. It had 
been agreed that after the admission of the girl into the place where 
we were, the Magnetizer, approaching the door in silence on the 
other side, should commence operations. There, then, was the 
patient, or ' subject, ' placed within two feet of her magnetizer, — 
a door only intervening, and that but partially closed, — but she, all 
the while, perfectly free from all idea of what was going on. We 
were careful to avoid any unnecessary conversation with the girl, or 
even to look towards her, lest we should raise some suspicion in her 
own mind. We wrote our letter (as if in answer) for nearly a 



A 



Phenomejia Dependent on Expectancy. 621 

quarter of an hour, once or twice only making an indifferent remark ; 
and on leaving the room for a light to seal the supposed letter, we 
beckoned the operator away. No effect whatever had been produced, 
although we had been told that two or three minutes were sufficient, 
even when mesmerizing from the drawing-room, through walls and 
apartments, into the kitchen. In our own experiment the intervening 
distance had been very much less, and only one solid substance inter- 
posed, and that not completely ; but here, we suspect, was the 
difference — the ' subject ' was unconscious of the 'magnetism and expected 
nothing.'*^ — [British and Foreign Medical Review^ 1845, vol. xix. 
p. 478.) 

517. The folio wiDg is a converse experiment performed by the 
same acute investigator : — 

" We were one evening in company with a young lady, who, we 
had been informed, had evinced high Mesmeric susceptibility. We 
requested permission to test this ourselves, and were obligingly per- 
mitted to do so. Accordingly we commenced to magnetize the lady, 
by keeping our thumbs in apposition with those of our subject, and 
fixing the gaze at the same time upon her eyes, with all the intensity 
our will could command ; in a few minutes a sort of hysteric 
somnolency ensued. Having satisfied ourselves thus far, we de- 
magnetized. We next proceeded to hypnotize the same lady, adopting 
Mr. Braid's mode of directing the stare at a fixed point. The result 
varied in no respect from that which had taken place in the foregoing 
experiment ; the duration of the process was the same, and its 
intensity of effect neither greater nor less. De-hypnotization again 
placed us where we were. And now we requested our patient to rest 
quietly at the fire-place, to think of just what she liked, and to look 
where she pleased, excepting at oui-selves, who retreated behind her 
chair, saying that a new mode was about to be tried, and that her 
turning round would disturb the process. We very composedly took 
up a volume which lay upon a table, and amused ourselves with it 
for about five minutes ; when, on raising our eyes, we could see by 
the excited features of other members of the party, that the young 
lady was once more magnetized. We were informed by those who 
had attentively watched her during the progress of our little 
stratagem, that all had been in every respect just as before. The 



D 2 2 Of Mesmerism and Spiritualism. 

lady herself, before she was undeceived, expressed a distinct con- 
sciousness of having fdt our unseen jpasses streaming down the neck. " 
^(Ojp. cit. p. 477.) 

518. That the expectation of the result affords an adequa^e 
e^cplanation of its occurrence, was also the conclusion arrived sit by 
M. Bertrand, who was the first to undertake a really scientific 
investigation of the phenomena of Mesmerism. The following is 
one out of several cases of this kind, which occurred within his 
own experience :— 

** I had, amongst others, a female Somnamhule who exhibited 
very curious phenomena, of a character not to be doubted. Being 
after some time compelled to be absent, I left her in the hands of one 
of my friends, who was very anxious to continue the treatment. The 
perusal of a great number of works, and my conversations with 
Magnetizers who doubted of nothing, suggested to me to see if I 
could not influence my Somnambulist, in spite of the distance of a 
hundred leagues which separated me from her. I wrote in conse- 
quence to my friend, and sent to him a little magnetized note, which 
I prayed him to place upon the stomach of the patient ; I indicated 
the epigastrium, because I had always heard this locality mentioned 
in these experiments. The experiment was made ; it succeeded, and 
the patient had a sleep accompanied with all the customary pheno- 
mena. However, I did not conceal from myself that as the patient 
had been apprized of the experiment which we were anxious to 
try, it might be that the sleep, although quite real, had been produced 
by the imagination alone. I therefore made another trial, to know 
what to think of it. I wrote a second letter, which I did not 
magnetize, and sent it as if it had been magnetized, warning the 
patient that it would cause her to fall into somnambulism ; in fact, 
she fell into this state, which presented all the characters which had 
been usual. I communicated this result of my experiment to the 
magnetizers whom I frequented ; they appeared greatly surprised 
thereat ; and, not being able to recognize the power of Imagination 
in a manner so marked, they pretended that if the last letter had 
produced the effect which I stated, it was only because, in writing it, 
I had (even unintentionally) impregnated it with my fluid, I set 



Phenomena Dependent on Expectancy. 623 

about an experiment which should teach me what was the real state 
of the case. I asked one of my friends to write a few lines in my 
place, and to strive to imitate my writing, so that those who should 
read the letter should mistake it for mine (I knew he could do so). 
He did this; our stratagem succeeded; and the sleep was produced 
j'ust as it would have been by one of my own letters." — {Bu Mayneiiamt 
Animale en France y Paris, 1826.) 

519. That the Imagination would supply the place of what he 
maintained to be the real Mesmeric influence, was admitted even 
by Dr. ElUotson : — 

** Mere imagination was at length sufficient ; for I one day told 
her and two others that I would retire into the next room, and 
mesmerize them through the door. I retired, shut the door, performed 
no mesmeric passes, but tried to forget her, walked away from the 
door, and busied myself with something else, — even walked through 
into a third room ; and, on returning in less than ten minutes from 
the first, found her soundly asleep, and she answered me just as waa 
usual in her sleep- waking condition." — Zoist, 1846, vol. xxxvi. p. 47. 

520. It is further to be borne in mind, that (putting aside the 
hypothesis of intentional deceit) the " sensitives " are often affected 
by impressions so slight as to be imperceptible to others. In this 
mode they may become aware, -through slight differences in tem- 
perature or in odour, whether certain objects presented to thoni 
have, or have not, been mesn^erized by contact with the hand 
of the operator. There would be nothing, in such an exaltation of 
ordinary Sensibility, at all transcending the accepted verities of 
Bcience. (See §§ 128, 498.) 

521. But, it is asserted, the existence of a special Mesmeric force 
is proved by the existence of the peculiar rapport between 
the Mesraerizer and his *' subject," which is not manifested to- 
wards any other individuals, save such as may be placed eii 
rapport with the subject by the mesmeriser. Nothing is more 
easy, however, than to explain this on the principle of " dominant 

44 



624 Of Mesmerism and Spiritualis77t. 

ideas." It will be readily understood from what has preceded, that 
if the mind of the subject be so yielded up to that of tiie 
mesmerizer, as to receive and act upon any impression which the 
latter forces upon, or even suggests to it, the idea of such a pecu- 
liar relation is as easily communicable as any other, and may 
©xert a complete domination over the subject through the 
whole of the sleep- waking state. Hence the commands or sugges- 
tions of the mesmerizer meet with a response which those of no 
other individual may produce ; in fact, the latter usually seem 
to be unheard by the somnambule, simply because they are not 
related to the dominant impression, — a phenomenon of which the 
experience of natural somnambulism is continually presenting 
examples (§488). And further, it being a fact that individuals, of 
what may be termed the "susceptible" constitution, have brought 
themselves, by the habit of obedience, into complete subjection to 
the expressed or understood will of some other person, even in the 
waking state, without any mesmeric influence whatever (§ 452), it 
is easy to understand how such a habit of attending to the operator, 
and to him alone, should be peculiarly developed in the state of 
Somnambulism, in which the mind has lost its self-acting power, 
and is the passive recipient of external impressions. — The same 
explanation applies to the other phenomena of this rapport, such 
as its establishment with any bystander by his joining hands with 
the mesmerizer and the somnambule j for it is quite sufficient that 
the somnambule should be previously possessed with the idea 
that this new voice will thus be audible to her, and that she must 
obey its behests, for it to produce all the same effects upon her as 
that of the mesmerizer had previously done. 

522. The History of Mesmerism, indeed, when candidly and philo- 
sophically examined (as it was by M. Bertrand), affords abundant 
evidence in support of . the foregoing position : for the rapport was 
not discovered until long after the practice of Mesmerism had come 
Into vogue, having been unknown alike to Mesmer himself and to liia 



I 



Rationale of Mesmeric Rapport. 625 

immediate disciples ; and its phenomena only acquired constancy 
and fix'.ty, in proportion as their (supposed) " laws " were announced 
and received. It is an important fact that Mesmerizers who began 
to experiment for themselves without any knowledge of what they 
were to expect, and who succeeded in producing a great variety of 
remarkable phenomena, never discovered this rapport ; though 
they obtained immediate evidence of it, when once the idea of it 
was put into their own minds, and thence transferred into those of 
their subjects. — In all the experiments witnessed by the Writer 
which seemed to indicate its existence, the previous idea had either 
been distinctly present, or it had obviously been suggested by the 
methods by which the mesmeric somnambulism had been induced : 
whilst in a large number of other cases which have fallen under 
his notice, but of which the subjects had not been among the 
habitues of mesmeric seances, the phenomena of this class could 
Qot be made to show themselves ; the consciousness of the som- 
nambulist not being limited to the mesmerizer, or to those placed 
bj him en rapport with them, but being either equally limited, 
or as equally extended, to all around. 

523. It is not within the scope of the present treatise, to enter 
into a detailed examination of the multitudinous phenomena of 
Mesmerism. All that can be now attempted is to give the clue by 
which those who desire to use it, may explore this mysterious 
labyrinth for themselves. And the same may be said of the pheno- 
mena of like kind, to which public attention has more recently been 
called under the designation of Spiritualism. To those who, in 
common with the Writer, have gone through a course of study of 
Mesmeric phenomena, under the guidance of a scientific knowledge 
of tljose parts of Psychology which relate to the subject, it is 

; perfectly obvious that the same general principles afford the clue 
to the explanation of what is genuine, in the latter as in the former 
class of phenomena ; and that the same tendencies to self-deception 

j conspire to produce, in minds predisposed to it, an acceptance of 



626 Of Mesmei^ism and Spirihialism, 



beliefs which are altogether repugnant to educated Common 
Sense (§ 385). 

524. The asserted phenomena of Mesmerism and Spiritualism 
may be fairly grouped under the following Classes : — 

I. Those whose genuineness may be readily admitted, witliout 
any extraordinary weight of evidence in their support ; since they 
are quite conformable to our previous knowledge, and are readilj? 
assignable to principles determined by the Scientific study of the 
class of facts to which they belong. 

II. Those which, not being conformable to our previous know- 
ledge, or explicable upon principles already admitted, cannot be 
accepted as genuine, without a greater body of satisfactory evidence 
in their favour ; but which, not being in absolute opposition to 
what we deem the best established Laws of Nature, we may receive 
upon adequate evidence, without doing violence to our Common 
Sense, — holding ourselves ready to seek their explanation in a more 
extended acquaintance with the powers of Mind and of Matter. mk 

III. Those which not only lie beyond our existing knowledge, but 
are in direct contrariety to it. Here, even though the external 
evidence in their favour should be the same with that on which 
the facts of the preceding groups find a secure support, the internal 
evidence is altogether antagonistic to their reception (§ 321) ; and 
its force in the well-ordered mind must remain conclusive against 
the validity of all statements, save those which shall have beea 
carefully, sagaciously, and perseveringly investigated, by observe rs 
fully qualified for the task by habits of philosophical discrimination, 
by entire freedom from prejudice^ and by a full acquaintance ivilh 
the numerous and varied sources of fallacy which attend this pari^cii' 
lar department of inquiry. 

These being the rules of all other branches of Scientific research, 
there is no reason why they should be departed from in one 
which so pre-eminently needs a constant reference to the canons 
of sound philosophy. Entertaining, as the Writer has been forced 






Relative Credibility of Phenomena, 627 



tc do, an extremely low opinion of the logical powers of the great 
bulk of the upholders of the Mesmeric and Spiritualistic systems,* 
—their belief bein^ founded on certain foregone conclusions which 
tliey have adopted without due examination, and which they sustain 
by nothing better than insensate reiteration, — it has given him the 
greatest astonishment to find any men of high attainments in 
{/articular departments of Science committing themselves to the 
extraordinary proposition, that if we admit the reality of the Imjoer 
phenomena (Class I.), the testimony which we accept as good for 
them ought to convince us of the higher (Classes 11. and 111.).+ 
Siich men seem totally oblivious of the difference between external 
and internal evidence, — the testimony of our senses (or of those of 
other individuals), and that of our sense. 

525. Under the ^rst of these categories may be ranked the 
occurrence of Mental states showing every gradation between 
mere expectant attention and the most profound coma ; the 
characteristic which is common to all these states being the more 
or less complete surrender of the guiding and controlling action of 
the Will, while there is a greater or less degree of receptivity for 
external impressions. The current of mental activity thus comes 
to be essentially automatic ; and the corrective action of Common 
Sense — which is the general resultant of antecedent experience — 
being thus suspended (as in dreaming), the Ego comes to believe 
implicitly in the ideas which may possess him at the time, 

* Thus, nothing is more common than the assertion that Faraday's experimental 
demonstration XhaX " table-turning " is produced by unconscious muscular action 
(§ 245) does not touch the question ; because the operators hnowt\\3i.t they do not 
themselves move the tables. When, by the use of Faraday's or any other properly 
coastruct^d testing apparatus, they can prove that the tables on which hands 
are placed will turn or tilt without receiving any pressure from those handsy 
they will have made out a case for further enquiiy ; but until they have done so, 
their assertions are of no scientific value. 

I This is the position which has been repeatedly taken by Mr. Alfred R, 
Wallace ; a gentleman whose admirable researches as a Naturalist have justlj 
gained for him a reputation of the highest order. 



628 Of Mesmerism and Spiritualism, 

whether these have been directly suggested to him by external 
prompting, or have been evolved by the operations of his own 
mind. Not only may all the phenomena which have been ds- 
Bcribed under the heads of Electro-Biology (§§ 448-4G9) and 
Somnambulism (§§ 487-500), but a great variety of others t xi 
ru nerous to particularize—such as the induction of cataleptic 
rigidity or of convulsive movements in particular groups of 
^Muscles, or of unconsciousness to Sensory impressions of a par- 
ticular class or affecting a particular part of the body, — which are 
adduced as evidence of a special Mesmeric power or Spiritual 
agency, be thus accounted-for in accordance with definite Physio- 
logical principles. For to the very same *' possession," voluntarily 
permitted by persons who yield themselves up to the domination 
of a certain set of ideas, we are fully justified in attributing an 
amount of self-deception as to matters of fact, which — extraordinary 
as it may seem — is perfectly intelligible on Scientific principles. 
Nothing is more common at the present time, than for the 
advocates of Spiritualism to appeal to *' the evidence of their 
own senses " as conclusive in regard to any thing done by " the 
spirits " ; and to claim that their testimony and that of others 
should bo received as that of honest and truthful witnesses to 
what Common Sense rejects as altogether preposterous and 
incredible : such persons being altogether ignorant of the fact 
well known to the Physiologist and Psychologist, that, when the 
Mind has been previously possessed by a " dominant idea,'' 
nothing is more fallacious than the "evidence of the senses" 
(§§ 139-148, 186, 187). 

ii26. To this category, again, may be referred a large variety 0/ 
Movements by which those mental states are expressed in ac'ion , 
as Table-talking, Plancliette-writing, Spirit-drawing, and the like. 
Putting aside the large amount of intentional decfption practised 
by those who trade upon public credulity in regard to such 
matters, there can be no reasonable doubt that all these thing 



Relative Credibility of Pheito^nena. 629 

are done in good faith, by persons who honestly believe themselves 
to be "mediums " of communication with the spiritual world (§ 252 
6). Some of these communications come to them spontaneously 
in a state resembling profound Reverie ; while others are mad« 
in answer to questions having more or less of a suggestive 
character. Now where the answers given are such as the 
** medium " himself (or herself) may have given, there is obviously 
no ground for affirming that they indicate any occult agency ; 
any more than the replies of Biologized subjects, or of Hypnotic 
or Mesmeric somnambules. In some cases it seems likely that the 
supposed "revelations" are merely the reproductions of im- 
pressions long since recorded, which have so completely passed out 
of the conscious memory, that the " medium " may honestly 
believe that they never either had or could have been made. Such 
cases, being precisely paralleled by the recovery of the lost " traces " 
in Dreaming and Somnambulism (§§ 483, 487a), obviously in no 
respect lie outside the ordinary course of Psychical action. 

527. But secondly, it is affirmed of the Spiritual "mediums," as 
of Mesmeric " clairvoyants," that they occasionally give informa- 
tion as to matters of fact, of which they cannot conceivably have 
become aware through any ordinary channel j so that they must 
be credited either with the possession of some " psychic force " at 
present unknown to Science, or with the reception of communica- 
tions from another sphere of existence. Now in regard to a large 
proportion of these cases, it may be unhesitatingly asserted that 
they would break down altogether, if submitted to the same 
searching enquiry that has been bestowed upon others of their 
kind, by men who were specially armed with a knowledge of tbfl 
probable sources of fallacy. It need not be imputed to the 
narrators of them, that they have intentionally stated \^hat they 
know to be untrue ; for experience shows that the memory of the 
most truthful persons is very treacherous in regard to matters as 
to which they have a preformed bias ; so that round a nucleus of 



63c Of Mesme7ns7n and Spiritualising 

truth an accretion of error will often form, without the least 
iiitentiou to deceive on the part of the contributors to it (§§ 365. 
366). In the course of his own enquiries on this subject, the 
Writer has had numerous opportunities of observing the readiness 
with which occurrences have been caught-at by sympathising 
witnesses, and worked-up into marvels \ some of which were 
obviously the results of suggestions, — sometimes designedly 
made by himself; while others were mere guesses, often very wide 
of the mark, which were made to fit the facts, by progressive 
though unintentional modification, — the myth-making process just 
referred to. 

528. But in addition to the cases in which no intentional decep- 
tion has been practised, the Scientific enquirer has to deal with 
those in which the results have been obtained by a system A 
cheating and trickery, devised to play upon the credulity of those 
who are predisposed to fall into the trap laid for them, and veiled 
by ingenious artifices from the detection of such as are desirous 
and able to expose it. For the performers in such cases are suffi- 
ciently keen-sighted to perceive the existence of a sceptical dis- 
position on the part of any of the "circle," and take their 
measures accordingly ; assigning as a pretext that the ]\Iesmeric 
agency cannot manifest itself, or that " the spirits " will not be 
propitious, unless certain conditions are complied with, which are 
tantamount to the exclusion of all thorough scrutiny. Or, if they 
submit to these tests, it is with the distinct warning that no mani- 
festation is likely to be vouchsafed to such suspicious sceptics, — 
whicli, so far as the Writer's experience has extended, has been the 
invariable result. Scientific men have been continually taunted 
with their unwillingness to investigate phenomena of this class ; 
but those who have had to encounter these negative results 
over and over again, are not to be blamed if they not only 
refuse to accept the testimony of those who have not been trained 
in habits of scientific investigation, as to matters on which they 



Relative Credibility of Phenomena. 631 

linctjt} that there are peculiar liabilities to error, but decline to waste 
Valuable time in repetitions of similar futile attempts to obtain 
manifestations that will bear being submitted to such tests as 
would be required in any other department of enquiry. 

529. That a large number of the so-called Physical manifesta- 
tn-ns have no other existence than in the belief of those who 
report them, the "Writer has come to feel a complete assurance, 
alike from what he has himself witnessed, and from the testimony 
of others. But it may be said, — "Why do you believe the 
" evidence of your senses, and tell us in the same breath that we 
** are not to believe that of ours ? And why do you accept the 
" testimony of the witnesses on your side, and refuse to credit that 
'' of the witnesses who confirm our statements ? " — The answer is 
simple. When either our own senses, or the testimony of others, 
inform us of something that is either accordant with inherent pro- 
bability, or is not discordant with inherent possibility, we receive 
that evidence as valid, until it is rebutted by some counter-proof. 
But if either our own senses, or the testimony of others, inform us 
of something that is entirely inconsistent with inherent possibility, 
we rejme to accept the informati(m, feeling assured that a fallacy 
must lurk somewhere. 

Thus when we witness the deceptions of a clever Conjuror, we 
know perfectly well that we are not to trust the evidence of our own 
Benses ; and we set our ingenuity to work to discover how the trick 
is done. Thus in some cases it is managed by pure sleight of hand ; 
one thing being substituted for another with such dexterity and 
rapidity, that — the attention of the observer being purposely distracted 
— his eye does not follow the movement. In others, it depends on 
certaia optical pre-arrangements, which make us believe that we see 
what we really do not see; as in the case of the " talking head," 
which seems to rest on a table that appears to be supported only on 
lour legs, so that we suppose ourselves to be looking beneath it at the 
drapery behind, — instead of which we are really looking at a pair of 
mirrors meeting at a right angle in front, so as to reflect to us the 



532 Of Mesmerism and spiritualism, 

drapery at the steles, tlie body of the *'head" being concealed behind 
them. 

530. Now it has happened over and over again in the Writer's 
experience, that what he considered as simple facts admitting a 
perfectly natural explanation, were interpreted as the results of 
some occult agency, Mesmeric or Spiritual, as the case might 
be. And from these cases the transition is easy to others, in which 
subjective sensations are referred to objective realities. Thus 
when two spiritualistic performers, in perfectly good faith, asserted 
that a table rose from the floor beneath their hands, whilst a third 
person, who was carefully watching the feet of the table, declared 
that one of them had never left the ground, it turned out that the 
first assertion entirely rested upon their mental conviction that 
they had " felt it pressing upwards against their hands," — a tactile 
sensation obviously producible by their expectation of such an 
occurrence (§ 146). And so, when Mr. Varley assures us that 
he has seen, in broad daylight, a large dining-table lifted bodily 
off the floor, and moved in the direction which he mentally 
requested it to take, we have to consider whether it is more con- 
sistent with inherent probability that Mr. Yarley interpreted 
subjective visual perceptions produced by his mental expectation 
(§ 186), as objective realities, or that the table was actually raised, 
either by his own " psychic force," or by the agency of disembodied 
spirits {Quarterly Review, Oct. 1871, pp. 330, 348). The process 
by which the mind of a person given up to the ** possession " of 
dominant ideas, is first led to misinterpret actual occurrences, and 
then (as in dreams, § 482 b) to invent objective explanations of his own 
sensations, is perfectly familiar to all who have carefully studied the 
phent»mena of Insanity (§ 559). And every one who accepts aa 
facts, merely on the evidence of his own senses, or on the testi- 
mony of others who partake of his own beliefs, what Common 
Sense tells him to be much more probably the fiction of his own 
imagination — even though confirmed by the testimony of hundreds 



Relative Credibility of Phe7iome7ia. ^^^^ 

affected with the same epidemic delusion, — must be regarded as 
the subject of "a diluted insanity." 

531. At the same time, eveiy one who admits that *' there are 
m )re things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philo- 
&.phj," will be wise in maintaining a "reserve of possibility" as 
t<; phenomena which are not altogether opposed to the Laws of 
FLysics or Physiology, but rather transcend them. Some of the 
A\ riter's own experiences have led him to suspect that a power of 
jni uitively perceiving what is passing in the mind of another, which 
has been designated as "thought-reading," may, like certain forms 
of sense-perception (§§ 128, 498), be extraordinarily exalted by 
that entire concentration of the attention, which is characteristic of 
tlje states we have been considering. There can be no question that 
this divining power is naturally possessed in a very remarkable 
degree by certain individuals, and that it may be greatly improved 
by caltivatioru So far, however, as we are acquainted with the 
conditions of its exercise, it seems to depend upon the unconscious 
interpretation of indications (many of them indefinable) furnished 
by the expression of the countenance, by style of conversation, and 
by various involuntary movements ; that interpretation, however, 
going in many instances far beyond what can have been learned by 
experience as to the meaning of such indications. Some very curious 
examples of this kind are related in the Autobiography of Heinrich 
Zschukke, who, according to his own statement (p. 170), possessed 
this power in a very remarkable degree, frequently being able to 
describe not only the general course, but even many particulai*s, 
of the past life of a person whom he saw for the first time, and 
of whose history he knew nothing whatever. — Looking at Nerve- 
furce as a special form of Physical energy, it may be deemed not 
altogether incredible that it should exert itself fi'om a distance, 
so as to bring the Brain of one person into direct dynamical com- 
munication with that of another, without the intermediation 
eitiier of verbal language or of movements of expression. A 



634 Of Mesmerism a^id Spiritualism. 

large amount of evidence, sifted with the utmost care, would be 
needed to establish even a probability of such communication. 
But would any Man of Science have a right to say that it is 
impossible ? 

532. The case is altogether different, however, in regard to the 
third order of asserted facts ; which every one whose mind has 
been trained in a conviction of the universality of the Law of 
Gravitation, must regard as incredible. That a living woman should 
be caught up by " the spirits," conveyed two miles through the air 
over the streets of London, and then introduced into a room of 
which the doors and windows were fastened, and to which there 
was no other access than the chimney, can only be believed even as 
a possibility by such as have entirely surrendered their Common 
Sense quoad this particular subject. And the explanation of the 
accordance of testimony as to the asserted fact, lies in the previous 
condition of the witnesses, whose minds were possessed with the 
expectation of its occurrence. Those who have studied the history 
of Epidemic Delusions, and especial!}^ that of the Witch-persecutions 
which took place in Great Britain and New England not two 
centuries ago, will at once see the parallel between the two cases. 

Thus in 1657, Richard Jones, a sprightly lad of twelve years old, 
living at Shepton Mallet, was bewitched by one Jane Brooks ; he was 
seen to rise in the air, and pass over a garden wall some thirty yards ; 
and at other times was found in a room with his hands flat against a 
beam at the top of the room, and his body two or three feet from the 
ground, nine people at a time seeing him in this position. Jane Brooks 
was accordingly condemned and executed at Chard Assizes, in March, 
1658. 

The fact that such beliefs not only have been, but even now are, 
entertained by " educated " men and women, is a most curious mani- 
festation of the myth-making tendency which seems inherent in 
Human nature, and which ever and anon breaks out in some new 
form. It is not a little curious, however, that, as Mr. Edward Tyk>J 



Relative Credibility of Phenomena. 635 

has pointed out, the various asserted Physical manifestations of 
modern SpirituaUsm are but repetitions of those which constitute, 
even at the present day, the means by which the Sorcerers of 
various uncultivated races maintain an influence over their dupes, 

*' The received Spiritualistic theory belongs tc the philosophy of 
eavages. As to such matters as apparitions or possessions, this is 
obvious ; and it holds in more extreme cases. Suppose a wild North 
American Indian looking on at a spirit-seance in London. As to tlie 
presence of disembodied spirits, manifesting themselves by raps, 
noises, voices, and other physical actions, the savage would be per- 
fectly at home in the proceedings ; for such things are part and parcel 
of his recognized system of Nature. The part of the affair really 
strange to him would be the introduction of such arts as spelling and 
writing, which do belong to a different state of civilization from his. 
The issue raised by the comparison of savage, barbaric, and civiHzed 
Spiritualism, is this : — Do the Eed Indian medicine-man, the Tatar- 
necromancer, the Highland ghost- seer, and the Boston medium, share 
the possession of belief and knowledge of the highest truth and im- 
port, which, nevertheless, the great intellectual movement of the last 
two centuries has simply thrown aside as worthless ? Is what we 
are habitually boasting of, and calling new enlightenment, then, in 
fact, a decay of knowledge ? If so, this is a truly remarkable case 
of degeneration ; and the savages whom some Ethnographers look on 
as degenerate from a higher civilization, may turn on their accusers, 
and charge them with having fallen from the high level of savage 
knowledge." — [Primitive Culture, vol. i. p. 141.) 

Those who yield their ready assent to the claims set up by pre- 
tenders to occult powers of any kind, are really placing them- 
selves on the level of the poor Greenland er who buys a fair wind 
from his Angekok, or of the credulous servant-girl who Is cheated 
»mt of her savings by the cunning old woman who promises so to 
** rule the planets " a£ to bring her love-affair to a favourable 
isBue. 



CRAPTEU XVII. 

OP INTOXICATION AND DELIRIUM. 

533. There is no class of aberrant Mental phenomena which ia 
more deserving of careful scientific study, than that which is pro- 
duced by the introduction into the Blood of substances which are 
foreign to its composition, and which have the special property 
of perverting its normal action on the Brain. For, in the first 
place, these phenomena bring into strong relief the contrast 
between that augmented automatic activity of the Cerebrum, which 
manifests itself in the rapid succession of thoughts, the vividness 
of images, and the strong excitement of feelings, — and the 
diminished volitional control, of which we have the evidence in the 
incoherence of thought, the incongruity of the imaginary crea- 
tions, and the extravagance of the feelings. And in the second 
place, it is perfectly clear that this disturbance of purely psychical 
action, affecting not merely w^hat may be regarded as the fimctions 
of the Brain, but the exercise of that attribute of Man's nature 
which seems most strongly indicative of a Powder beyond and above 
it ( § 26), is produced by agencies purely pliysical. For it is not only 
that the balance between the automatic activity of the Brain, 
and the directing and controlling power of the Will, is disturbed by 
the exaltation of the former, so as to give it a predominance over 
the latter. On the contrary, the absolute weakening of Volitional 
control is clearly a primary effect of these agencies ; being ai 
strongly manifested when the automatic activity (as often happens) 
is reduced, as when it is augmented. And this weakening is still 
more obvious, when not merely the quality of the Blood, but the 
nutrition of the Brain, has been deteriorated by the prolonged 



Fantasia of Hachisch, 637 

actiou of " nervine stimulants ; " the Will becoming, as it ^vere, 
par-alysed, so that the mental powers are not under its command 
for any exertion whatever, while even its controlling power over 
bodily movement may be greatly diminished. 

534. The states of Mind temporarily produced by intoodcaiin^ 
agents, — Alcohol, Opiiun, Hachisch, and the like, — are closely 
akin to one another in this fundamental character ; as they are 
also to the delirium of fevers or other diseases, which is due to 
the introduction of a morbid matter into the Blood, whereby a 
zymosis or fermentation of its own materials is produced, which 
gives it a poisonous action on the Brain. In the second case, as 
!n the first, the effect is transient ; the poison being gi-adually 
eliminated from the circulation by the excretory apparatus (in- 
cluding the respiratory organs), so that the blood regains its 
original purity. And it is this temporary character alone, which 
differentiates the mental perversion of Intoxication and Delirium, 
from that which is persistent in Insanit}'- (§ 550). Now although 
Alcoholic intoxication usually differs in some of its phenomena 
from the dreamy reverie produced by Opium, as this again does 
from the fantasia of the Hachisch, yet the differences in the states 
produced by any one of them — especially alcohol — in different 
individuals, are not less remarkable than those which ordinarily 
characterize the action of these different intoxicants. And as 
the one last named has been made the subject of special study 
(by experiment on his friends as well as on himself) on the part 
of a French Physician thoroughly conversant with the parallel 
phenomena of Insanity, it wiU be convenient to take his account of 
its action as furnishing the type of what may be called artificial 
Delirium.* 

535. The Hachisch is a peculiar preparation of the Cannahii 
Indica or Indian Hemp, which has been used in the Levant as an 

* Du Haoliisch et d' Alienation Mentale, ]&tudes Psychologiques ; par Dib 
T. Moreau (dj Tours) ; Paris, 1845. 



638 Of Intoxication and Delirium, 

' 

Intoxicating agent from a very remote period ; the Assassins- h 
peculiar military and religious order of Mussulmans, founded ;n 
Persia in the eleventh century, whose representatives are still to 
be found in Bombay — deriving their name (originally Hachischin) 
fi-om the use made of it by their chief to bring his followers 
into bhnd devotion to his service. It is a cui-ious feature in the 
astion of the Hachisch, that, except when under the complete in- 
fluence of a very powerful dose, the person who has taken it does 
not altogether lose his power of introspection, and is subsequently 
able to retrace most of what he has felt and acted during the state 
of excitement. Its effects vary extremely, not only according to 
the dose that is taken, but also according to the susceptibility of 
the individual; and there are some persons on whom it seems to 
produce no impression whatever. A small dose seems usually to 
produce no other effect than a moderate exhilaration of the spirits, 
or, at most, a tendency to unseasonable laughter ; and the first 
result of a dose sufficient to produce what is termed in the Levant 
the fantasia, is usually an intense sentiment of happiness, which 
attends all the operations of the mind. 

*' It is really happiness^ " says M. Moreau, " which is produced by 
the Hachisch ; and by this I imply an enjoyment entirely moral, and 
by no means sensual, as we might be induced to suppose. This is 
surely a very curious circumstance ; and some remarkable inferences 
might be drawn from it ; this for instance among others, — that every 
feeling of joy and gladness, even when the cause of it is exclusively 
Moral, — that those enjoyments which are least connected with 
material objects, the most spiritual, the most ideal, — may be nothing 
else than sensations purely physical, developed in the interior of the 
system, as are those procured by the Hachisch. At least, so far as 
relates to that of which we are internally conscious, there is no dis- 
tinction between these two orders of sensations, in spite of the 
diversity in the causes to which they are due ; for the Hachisch 
eater is happy, not like the gourmand or the famished man when 
satisfying his appetite, or the voluptuary in gratifying his amative 



Fantasia of Hachisch, 639 



iesires, but like him who hears tidings which fill him with joy, like 
the miser counting his treasures, the gambler who is successful at 
play, or the ambitious man who is intoxicated with success." — (Ojli, 
<«f., p. 54.) 

536. Most persons will be able to recall analogous states of exlii 
laration, and the reverse condition of depression, in themselves ; 
the former being characterized by a feeling of general well-being, 
a sentiment of pleasure in the use of all the bodily and mental 
powers, and a disposition to look with enjoyment upon the present, 
and with hope to the future ; whilst in the latter state there is a 
feeling of general but indefinable discomfort. Every exertion, 
whether mental or bodily, is felt as a burden ; the present is weari- 
some, and the future is gloomy (§ 156). These, like all other phases 
of Human nature, are faithfully delineated by Shakspere. Thus 
Romeo gives expression to the feelings inspired by the first state :— 

** My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne. 
And all this day an unaccustomed spirit 
Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thought. " 

[Borneo and Juliet, v., 1.) 

While the reverse state is delineated by Hamlet in his well- 
known soliloquy — 

*' I have of late (but, wherefore, I know not) lost all my mirth, 
foregone all customs of exercises : and, indeed, it goes so heavily with 
my disposition, that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a 
sterile promontory ; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, 
this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted \yith 
golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me, than a foul and 
pestilent congregation of vapours." (Hamlet, ii., 1.) 

In the conditions here referred to, the same feelings of pleasure and 
of discomfort attend all the operations of the Mind, — the merely 
sensational, and the ideational. In the state of exhilaration, we 
feel a gratification from Sensations which at other times pass 

45 



540 Of Intoxication and Deliritim. 

unnoticed, whilst those which are usually pleasurable are remark- 
ably enhanced ; while in like manner, the trains of Ideas which aro 
started being generally attended with similar agreeable feelings, 
we are said to be under the influence of the pleasurable or elevatinji 
Emotions. On the other liand, in the state of depression we feel 
an indescribable discomfort from the very sensations which befon- 
produced the liveliest gTatification ; and the thoughts of the 
past, the present, and the future, which we before dwelt on with 
delight, now excite no feelings but those of pain, or at best of 
indifference. These conditions are essentially Physical (§ 552). 

537. One of the first appreciable effects of the Hachisch, is the 
gradual weakening of that power of volitionally controlling and 
directing the thoughts, which is so characteristic of the vigorous 
mind. The individual feels himself incapable of fixing his atten- 
tion upon any subject ; the continuity of his thoughts being 
continually drawn off by a succession of disconnected ideas, which 
force themselves (as it were) into his mind, without his being able 
in the least to trace their origin. These speedily engross his 
attention, and present themselves in strange combinations, so as to 
produce the most impossible and fantastic creations. By a strong 
effort of the Will, however, the original thread of the ideas may 
still be recovered, and the interlopers may be driven away ; their 
remembrance, however, being preserved, like that of a dream 
recalling events long since past. These lucid intervals become pro- 
gressively of shorter duration, and can be less frequently procured 
by a voluntary effort ; for the internal tempest becomes more violent, 
the torrents of disconnected ideas are so powerful as completely to 
arrest the attention, and the mind is gradually withdrawn alto- 
gethei from the contemplation of external realities, being conscious 
only of its own internal workings. There is always preserved, 
however, a much greater amount of " self-consciousness " than 
exists in ordinary Dreaming ; the condition rather corresponding 
with that in which the sleeper knows that he dreams, and, if liis 



Fantasia of Hachisch, 641 

dream be agreeable, makes an effort to prolong it, being conscioua 
of a fear lest he should by awaking cause the dissipation of the 
pleasant illusion. It is another characteristic of the action of the 
Hachissh, that the succession of ideas has at first less of incoherence 
than in ordinary Dreaming, and the ideal events do not so far 
depart from possible realities ; the disorder of the mind being pri- 
marily manifested in errors of sense, in false convictions, or in the 
predominance of one or more extravagant ideas. These ideas and 
convictions are generally not altogether of an imaginary character, 
but are rather suggested by external impressions ; these impressions 
being erroneously interpreted by the perceptive faculties, and 
giving origin, therefore, to fallacious notions of the objects which 
excited them. It is hi that more advanced stage of the " fantasia," 
which immediately precedes the complete withdrawal of the mind 
from external things, and in which the self-consciousness and Vo- 
litional power are weakened, that this perverted impressibility 
becomes most remarkable ; more especially as the general excite- 
ment of the feelings causes the erroneous notions to have a 
powerful effect in arousing them ; — 

" "We become the sport of impressions of the most opposite kind ; 
the continuity of our ideas may be broken by the slightest cause. We 
are turned, to use a common expression, by every wind. By a word 
or a gesture our thoughts may be successively directed to a multitude 
of different subjects, with a rapidity and a lucidity which are truly 
marvellous. The mind becomes possessed with a feeling of pride, 
corresponding with the exaltation of its faculties, of whose increase 
in energy and power it becomes conscious. It will be entirely 
dependent on the circumstances in which we are placed, the objects 
which strike our eyes, the words which fall on our ears, whether the 
most lively sentiments of gaiety or of sadness shall be produced, or 
passions of the most opposite character shall be excited, sometiiuea 
with extraordinary violence ; for irritation shall rapidly pass into 
rage, dislike to hatred and desire of vengeance, and the calmest 
affection to the most transporting passion. Fear becomes terror ; 
courage is developed into rashness, which nothing checks, and which 



642 Of Intoxication and Delirium. 

seems not to be conscious of danger; and the most unfounded doubt 
or suspicion becomes a certainty. Tlie mind has a tendency to 
exaggerate everything ; and the slightest impulse carries it along. 
Those who make use of the Hachisch in the East, when they wish to 
give themselves up to the intoxication of the fantasia, take care to 
withdraw themselves from everything which could give to their 
delirium a tendency to melancholy, or excite in them anything else 
than feelings of pleasurable enjoyment ; and they profit fcy all the 
means which the dissolute manners of the East place at their dis- 
posal. "— (Ci>. cit,, p. 67.) 

538. The disturbance of the perceptive faculties is remarkably 
shown in regard to time and space. Minutes seem hours, and hours 
are prolonged into years ; and at last all idea of time seems oblite- 
rated, and the past and present are confounded together. M. Moreau 
mentions as an illustration, that on one evening he was traversing 
the passage of the Opera when under the influence of a moderate 
dose of Hachisch : he had made but a few steps, when it seemed 
to him as if he had been there two or three hours ; and, as he 
advanced, the passage appeared to him interminable, its extremity 
receding as he pressed forwards. But he gives another more 
remarkable instance. In walking along the Boulevards, he has 
frequently seen persons and things at a certain distance presenting 
the same aspect as if he had viewed them through the large end 
of an opera-glass ; that is, diminished in apparent size, and there- 
fore suggesting the idea of increased distance. — This erroneous 
perception of space is one of the effects of the Amanita muscaria^ 
an intoxicating fungus used by the Tartars ; a person under ita 
influence being said to take a jump or a stride sufiicient to clear the 
trunk of a tree, when he wishes only to step over a straw or a 
small stick. Such erroneous perceptions are common enough 
among Lunatics, and become the foundations of fixed illusions ; 
whilst in the person intoxicated by Hachisch there is still a certain 
wmsciousness of their deceptive character. 

539. Though all the Senses appea,r to be peculiarly impressible in 



Fantasia of Hachisch, 643 

this condition, yet that of hearing seems the one through which the 
greatest influence may be exerted upon the mind, especially through 
the medium of musical sounds. The celebrated artist, M. Theodore 
Gaultier, describes himself as hearing sounds from coloura, which 
produced undulations that were perfectly distinct to him. But he 
goes on to say that the slightest deep sound produced the effect of 
rolUng thunder ; his own voice seemed so tremendous to him, that 
he did not dare to speak out, for fear of throwing down the walls, 
or of himself bursting like a bomb ; more than five hundred clocks 
seemed to be striking the hour with a variety of tones, tkc, <fec. 
Of course those individuals who have a natural or an acquired 
" musical ear," are the most likely to be influenced by the concord 
or succession of sweet sounds ; and in such, the simplest music of 
the commonest instrument, or even an air sung by a voice in a 
mediocre style, will excite the strongest emotions of joy or melan- 
choly, according as the air is cheerful or plaintive ; the mental 
excitement being communicated to the body, and being accom- 
panied with muscular movements of a semi-convulsive nature. 
This influence of music is not merely sensual, but depends, like 
that of other external impressions, upon the associations which it 
excites, and upon the habitual disposition to connect with it the 
play of the Imaginative faculties. 

540. A somewhat similar experience from another intojicant, 
is recorded of himself by Dr. Laycock : — 

•* On a certain night, when a sufferer from severe pain and great 
weakness, he took one drop of Fleming's tincture of aconite, and 
slept. About midnight he became sensible of a novel state of per- 
ception, obscure at first, but shaped at last into strains of grand 
aerial music in cadences of exquisite harmony, now dying away 
round mountains in infinite perspective, now pealing along ocean « 
like valleys. Knowing by previous studies that it was a hallucina- 
tion of perception, he at last listened to ascertain the cause, and 
found it was the rattle of a midnight train entering an adjoining 
I'ailway station. Thus, under the changes induced in the Brain by a 



644 Of Intoxication and Delirium. 

diop of tincture of acouite, the harsh, rattle of the iron vibrating on 
the air in the silence of a summer midnight was changed into harp- 
like aerial music, such not only as * ear had not heard,' but no con- 
ceivable art of man could realise. Associated therewith was also a 
suggested terrestrial vision of space of infinite extent and grandeur." 
— {Mind and Brain, 2nd Edit., vol. i. p. 422.) 

Sii..h phenomena, as Dr. Laycock justly remarks, indicate the possi» 
bility that even the highest Intuitions of Genius are the expres- 
sions of appropriate changes in the Brain-tissue. 

541. It is seldom that the excitement produced by the Hachisch 
fixes itself upon any particular train of ideas, and gives rise to 
a settled delusion ; for in general one set of ideas chases another 
so rapidly, that there is not time for either of them to enchain the 
attention and settle itself in the intellect ; more especially since 
(as already remarked) there is usually such a degree of self- 
consciousness preserved throughout, as prevents the Ego from 
entirely yielding himself up to the suggestions of his ideational 
activity. M. Moreau mentions, however, that on one occasion, 
having taken an overdose, and being sensible of unusual effects, he 
thought himself poisoned by the friend who had administered 
it, and persisted in this idea in spite of every proof to the 
contrary, — until it gave way to another, namely, that he was dead, 
and was about to be buried; his self-consciousness however, 
being yet so far preserved, that he believed his body only to 
be defunct, his soul having quitted it. But when this is alto- 
gether suspended, as it seems to be by a larger dose, the erroneous 
ideas become transformed into convictions, taking full possession of 
the mind ; although sudden gleams of Common Sense still burst 
through the mists of the imagination, and show the .llusive natuie 
of the pictures which the "internal senses" have impressed on the 
Sensoriura. All this — as every one knows, v/ho has made the 
phenomena nf Insanity his study — has its exact parallel in 
the different stages of mental derangement : the illusive ideas 



Opium-Dreams and Reveries, 645 

and erroneous convictions being in the first instance capable of 
being dissipated by a strong effort of the Will, gradually exerting 
a stronger and stronger influence on the general current cf 
thought, and at last acquiring such complete mastery over it, 
that the Reason cannot be called into effectual operation to 
Bntagonize them (§ 562). 

542. In Opium-dreams and reveries, it would seem from the 
description given by De Quincey (Confessions of an English Opium 
€'iter) that the mind is less susceptible of the suggestive influence of 
present sense-impressions, the course of thought and feeling being 
rather determined by the recurrence of past ideas. And it is 
curious that here again the multiplication or intensification of the 
images, so as to give rise to ideal conceptions of which the range 
seemed to be infinite, either in Number, in Time, or in Space, 
should be one of the most constant phenomena. How far this was 
due to the imaginative temperament of De Quincey himself, may 
be a matter of question j but the fact that such Mental concept 
tions, transcending all actual experience, could be called into 
existence by Physical agencies, has no slight significance. He 
tells us the four following facts in regard to one particular period 
of his Opium-dreams, as specially noticeable : — 

•* 1. Whatsoever I happened to call-up and to trace by a volun- 
tary act upon the darkness, was very apt to transfer itself to my 
dreams ; so that I feared to exercise this faculty : for, as Midas 
turned all things to gold, that yet baffled his hopes and defrauded 
his human desires, so whatsoever things capable of being visually 
represented I did but think of in the darkness, immediately shaped 
themselves into phantoms of the eye ; and, by a process apparently 
no less inevitable, when thus once traced in faint and visionary 
colours, like writings in sympathetic ink, they were drawn out by 
tho fierce chemistry of my dreams, into insufferable splendour that 
fretted my heart. 

'* 2. For this and all other changes in my dreams, were accom* 
panied by deep-seated anxiety and gloomy melancholy, such as are 



646 Of Intoxication and Delirium. 

wholly incGmmunicable by words. I seemed every night to descend, 
not metaphorically but literally, into chasms and sunless abysses, 
depths below depths, from which it seemed hopeless that I could ever 
re-ascend. Nor did I, by waking, feel that I had re-ascended. 
This I do not dwell upon ; because the state of gloom which attended 
these gorgeous spectacles, amounting at least to utter darkness, as of 
some suicidal despondency, cannot be approached in words. 

** 3. The sense of Space, and in the end the sense of Time, were 
both powerfully affected. Buildings, landscapes, &c., were exhi- 
bited in proportions so vast as the bodily eye is not fitted to receive. 
Space swelled, and was amplified to an extent of unutterable infinity. 
This, however, did not disturb me so much as the vast expansion of 
Time ; I sometimes seemed to have lived for 70 or 100 years in one 
night ; nay, sometimes had feelings representative of a millennium 
passed in that time, or, however, of a duration far beyond the limits 
of human experience. 

*' 4. The minutest incidents of childhood, or forgotten scenes of 
later years, were often revived : for I could not be said to recollect 
them; for if I had been told of them when waking, I should not 
have been able to acknowledge them as parts of my past experience. 
Put placed as they were before me, in dreams, like intuitions, and 
clothed in all their evanescent circumstances and accompanying 
feelings, I recognized them instantaneously." — (Op. c»Y., Ed. 1853, 
pp. 139-142.) 

A very curious example of the suggestive influence of a past im- 
pression, and the magnification of that impression by the peculiar 
susceptibility produced by the previous mental life, is presented 
by De Quincey's account of the results of the chance visit of a 
M alay beggar ; — 

" The Malay has been a fearful enemy for months. I hav^ been 
every night, through his means, transported into Asiatic scenes, 
which always filled me with such amazement at the monstrous 
Bcenery, that horror seemed absorbed, for a while, in sheer astonish- 
ment. Sooner or later came a reflux of feeling that swallowed up 
the astonishment, and left me, not so much in terror as in hatred 
and abomination of what I saw. Over every form, and threat, and 



Pa7'alysis of the Will. 647 

pimisliment, and dim sightless incarceration, brooded a sense of 
eternity and infinity that drove me into an oppression a3 of mad- 
cess."— (Op. ctY., p. 152.) 

543. The almost complete paralysis of Will produced by the 
prolonged abuse of Opium, has been graphically described by the 
same powerful -writer. From the studies which he had formerly 
pursued with the greatest interest, he shrank with a sense s)f power- 
less and infantine feebleness, that gave him an anguish the greater 
from remembering the time when he grappled with them to hia 
own hom-ly dehght ; and an unfinished work to which he had 
dedicated the blossoms and fruits of his powerful intellect, seemed 
nothing better than a memorial of hopes defeated, of baffled efforts, 
of materials uselessly accumulated, of foundations laid that were 
never to support a superstructure. In this state of vohtional but 
not inteUecrual debility, he had for amusement tmiied his attention 
to Political Economy, for the study of which his previous tra in ing 
had eminently fitted him ; and after detecting the fallacies of 
many of the doctrines then cuiTent, he found in the treatise of 
Mr. Pdcardo that which satisfied his intellectual hunger, and gave 
him a pleasure and activity he had not known for years. Thinking 
that some important truths had escaped even '-the inevitable eye" 
of Mr. Pdcardo, he made great progress in what he designed to be 
an " Introduction to all future systems of Political Economy ; " 
an*angements were made for printing and pubhshing the work, and 
it wa^ even twice adveitised. But he had a preface to write, and 
a dedication, which he wished to make a splendid one, to Mr. 
Pdcardo ; and he found himself quite unable to accomplish this, so 
that the arrangements were coimtermanded, and the work laid on 
the sheL£ 

"I have thus," he continues, "described and illustrated my 
intellectual torpor, in terms that apply, more or less, to every part of 
the four years during which I was imder the Circean spells of opium. 



648 Of Intoxication and Delirium. 

But for misery and suflFering, I might, indeed, be said to have 
existed in a dormant state. I seldom could prevail on myself to 
write a letter ; an answer of a few words, to any that I received, 
was the utmost that I could accomplish ; and often that not until the 
letter had lain weeks, or even months, on my writing-table. Without 
the aid of M. all records of bills paid, or to he paid, must h^-ve 
perished : and my whole domestic economy, whatever became of 
Political Economy, must have gone into irretrievable confusion. I 
shall not afterwards allude to this part of the case : it is one, how- 
ever, which the opium-eater will find, in the end, as oppressive and 
tormenting as any other, from the sense of incapacity and feebleness, 
from the direct embarrassmeL..;S incident to the neglect or procrastina- 
tion of each day's appropriate duties, and from the remorse which 
must often exasperate the stings of these evils to a reflective and 
conscientious mind. The opium-eater loses none of his moral sensi- 
bilities or aspiratxons : he wishes and longs, as earnestly as ever, to 
realize what he believes possible, and feels to be exacted by duty ; 
but his intellectual apprehension of what is possible infinitely outruns 
his power, not of execution only, but of power to attempt. He lies 
under the weight of incubus and nightmare : he lies in sight of all 
that he would fain perform, just as a man forcibly confined to his bed 
by the mortal languor of a relaxing disease, who is compelled to 
witness injury or outrage offered to some object of his tenderest 
love : — he curses the spells which chain him down from motion : — he 
would lay down his life if he might but get up and walk ; but he is 
powerless as an infant, and cannot even attempt to rise." — 'yO'p. c»7., 
pp. 138-138.) 

It is quite obvious that it was not from intellectual but from 
volitvMial torpor, that De Quincey suffered. That he could juaster 
such a work as Ricardo's, still more, that he could not only detect 
but supplement its deficiencies, shows that his Intellect was unim^ 
paired. But he was, in regard to the Volitional use of his mental 
faculties, exactly in the condition of the patients formerly men- 
tioned, who were prevented by paralysis of Will from perform- 
ing the most simple bodily movements, though the Nervo-muscului 
apparatus was uninjured (§ 312). 



Alcoholic Intoxication, 649 

544. It would seem that in whatever way the exertion of Voli* 
tioiial power is related to the condition of the Brain, this exertion 
is interfered-with by the use of Intoxicating agents, hefore there i3 
any serious perversion of the automatic activity. And this may 
be sspecially noticed in Alcoholic intoxication ; the usual tendency 
of which is to produce a greater change in the actions of the un- 
happy subject of it, than is ordinarily induced either by Opium or by 
Hachisch. For whilst the tendency of these is to act upon the 
moral feelings and sentiments, the action of alcohol more com- 
monly manifests itself in the excitement of the lower propensities. 
As soon as the liquor begins to exert ani/ effect upon the Brain, its 
operation shows itself in quickening either the Ideational or the 
Emotional activity, or both combined, and, at the same time, in 
weakening the Volitional control. It was in this condition that 
Theodore Hook's powers of Improvisation displayed themselves 
most remarkably (§ 399) ; and that Hartley Coleridge could hold 
a rustic audience enchained by the succession of stories that flowed 
from his exhaustless fountain of invention. Many men under this 
influence are more generous and conceding than in their perfectly 
sober condition, so that they are ready to grant favours and make 
agreements which their better judgment disapproves, — a circum- 
stance of which those who have a point to gain from them are not 
slow to take advantage. Those, on the other hand, in whose con- 
stitutions the lower animal propensities habitually predominate, 
are subject to an exaltation of these from a very slight alcoholic 
stimulus ; and their power of self-control being at the same time 
weakened, they become the slaves of any brutal passion that the 
slightest provocation may arouse. It is in this primary stage of 
Alcoholic excitement, that a large number of " crimes of violence," 
as well as of minor offences, are committed ; as is shown by the 
remarkable reduction in these which took place in the Navy, im- 
mediately that the " evening grog " was stopped. The following 
very characteristic instance of this kind was related to the 



650 Of Intoxication and Delirium, 

Admiralty Committee on whose recommendation this change "was 
made : — 

*'I had a Marine," said Capt. Drew, *'who was constantly com- 
plained against for quarrelling and fighting, and disobedience to the 
orders of his sergeant. At length I began with flogging him, and 
told him that I would increase his punishment every time that I had 
a complaint against him. This I had to do twice ; and as the man 
was constantly excited it appeared to me that the man's reason must 
be affected. I therefore applied to the Surgeon, and asked him to 
examine the man, to see whether he was not a fit subject for invalid- 
ing; but the surgeon reported that he was as fine and healthy a 
young man as there was in the ship. I then did not think myself 
justified in flogging him again, but took upon myself to do an 
illegal act with a good intention ; and when we came into harbour 
(in the West Indies) I hired a cell in the gaol, and kept him there 
three days upon bread and water. "When the man came out of gaol, 
I told him that whenever I had a complaint against him, as sure as 
we came into harbour I would send him to gao] ; but that if he 
would choose to alter his conduct, I would start afresh with him and 
forget everj'^thing that had happened. He said that he was very 
much obliged to me ; and he came to me the next day, and asked 
me if I would stop his allowance of grog, and let him be paid for it. 
I did so, and never had another complaint against the man while I 
was in the ship." 

How piu-ely physical is this agency, is strikingly shown by the 
experiments of Dr. Huss, of Stockholm, upon dogs ; for when these 
animals, having been dosed with brandy during several months, 
were in the advanced stage of the disease (which he was studying 
for the benefit of Humanity), designated by Dr. H. Alcoholismus 
chronicus, although scarcely able to stand, they were always 
aroused from their apathetic condition by the sight of other dogH, 
endeavouring -even in their weakened state, to attack and bile 
them ; and this irritability showed itself to the very last. 

545. There is, in fact, no abrupt transition between the " sober" 
and the " drunken" sta,te ; but a gradual weakening of Volitional 



Relation of Intoxication to Insanity. 651 

control, a gradually increasing confusion of the thoughts, and a 
gi-adual augmentation of the turbulence of the passions, in pro- 
portion as the alcoholized blood takes more and more hold of the 
Brain. When the government of the Will is completely over- 
thrown, and the excited passions rage uncontrolled, the drunkard 
may be most truly said to be a madman, and is, like him, at the 
iiine completely irresponsible for his actions ; since, even if some 
glimmering consciousness of their criminality should still remain, 
he has lost all power either of restraining his vehement impulses, 
or of withdrawing himself from their influence. His responsibi- 
lity arises from his having knowingly and voluntarily given up the 
reins of Reason and Conscience, and subjected himself to the 
domination of his evil passioDS ; so that his better nature loses its 
due supremacy, and he becomes the mere instrument of his insane 
impulses. It has been argued with considerable plausibility, 
that a man ought not to be punished for any crime he may com- 
mit in a state of Intoxication, since he is then in a state of 
"temporary insanity;" but that he should be punished as 
severely for having brought himself into that state. This would 
doubtless be ths most logical mode of dealing with the criminal ; 
but as it would require that every drunkard should be held guilt^i 
of a crime equal in gravity to murder, such punishment could 
obviously not be enforced. The time may perhaps come, when the 
man who voluntarily resigns that self-directing power which is the 
noblest gift of his Creator, and gives himself over to the domination 
of rage, lust, jealousy, or any other bad passion which may be ex- 
cited by the action of alcohol on his brain, may be regarded as not 
less criminal than an engine-driver who should raise the fire of liis 
locomotive to an extra heat, and bring up its steam to its highest 
pressure, and then abandon it, after starting it on a career of 
destruction. 

546. The closeness of the affinity between the states of Insanity 
and alcoholic Intoxication is further made apparent by the 



b 5 2 Of In toxication and Delirium. 



extreme readiness with which the balance of reason is disturbed 
by a small quantity of liquor, in those unfortunate individuals in 
whom there exists a predisposition to mental derangement. The 
power of Vohtional control being already feeble, it is easily over- 
thrown ; and the propensities or passions which are always 
unduly excitable, are readily aroused into morbid activity by this 
provocation ; so that a very few glasses of wine, or a small quantity 
of spirits, are sufficient to induce what may be regarded either as a 
fit of Drunkenness or a paroxysm of Insanity, — the two influences 
concurring to produce the mental disturbance, which neither of 
them would have alone sufficed to bring about. Not unfrequently 
the state thus induced is one of temporary Monomania [^ 559 a); the 
mind becoming possessed by a particular emotional state, which 
governs the conduct, and leads to the perpetration of atrocious 
crimes. Thu^ at least two instances of this kind have occurred 
within the recollection of the Writer, in which the Captain of a 
ship, having been thus seized with the belief that his crew was 
in a state of mutiny, has killed one of them after another, in 
(as he beheved) rightful self-defence. — Such a predisposition may 
arise from previous injury or disease affecting the Brain (tropical 
sun-stroke being often alleged, as the cause of it), or it may be 
inherited ', and it exists in peculiar force in those who have an 
hereditary tendency to insanity derived from drunkenness on the 
part of the parents (§ 299 a). Cases are continually occurring, in 
which drunken outrages are committed by individuals thus cir- 
cumstanced, in whose excuse it is alleged that a very small quan- 
tity of liqaor is sufficient to inflame their passions and destroy 
I heir self-control. But this does not constitute any real apology 
except in the case of the first outbreak; since their consciousness 
of their peculiar liability ought to lead them most rigidly to 
abstain from that indulgence which they know to destroy their 
power of self-government. 

547. The debasing influence of continued Alcoholic excess is* 



Intoxication and Delirium. 653 



mifortunately but too apparent. Cases like that of Hartley 
Coleridge, in which it seems only to excite the higlier part of the 
Intellectual and Moral nature to an irregular activity, are ex- 
tremely rare. Far more generally, while weakening the Will ami 
3X(;iting the lower propensities, it blunts theMoral sense also ; 
and the wretched victim becomes so completly the slave of his 
tyrannical appetite for di'ink, that he is ready to gratify it at any 
sacrifice. This Moral degradation is perhaps even more marked in 
Women than in Men; for the drunkenness of the former (especially 
m the upper ranks of society) being usually secret — at least in the 
first instance, — whilst in the latter it is generally open, it can only 
be practised by deceit and fraud; and when the habit has obtained 
such a dominance that the customary restraints are thrown aside, 
there is a more complete abandonment of self-respect. In either 
sex, it is the physical craving produced by the continued action of 
the stimulant upon the nutrition of the Nei'vous system (§ 155), 
which renders the condition of the habitual di'unkard one with 
which it is peculiarly difficult to deal by purely moral means. 
Vain is it to recall the motives for a better course of conduct, to 
one who is already famihar with them all, but is destitute of the 
Will to act upon them ; the seclusion of such persons fi'om the 
reach of alcoholic liquors, for a sufficient length of time to free 
the blood from its contamination, to restore the healthfuJ. nutri- 
tion of the brain, and to enable the recovered menta^ vigour 
to be wisely directed, seems to afford the only prospect of reforma- 
tion ; and this cannot be expected to be permanent, unless the 
patient determinately adopts and steadily acts on the resolution 
t<> abstain entirely from that, which, if again indulged in, will no 
poison alike to his body and to his mind, and will transmil if 3 
pernicious influence to his offspring. 

548. The ordinary Delirium of disease corresponds in all its 
essential characters with that which is induced by the iuti-o- 
duction of intoxicating agents into the blood. '* In its hi^^hest 



654 Of Intoxic ation and Deliriu7n. 

degree," says Dr. Todd,* " it is a complete disturbance of the 
Intellectual actions ; the thoughts are not inactive, but rather 
far more active than in health ; they are uncontrolled, and wander 
from one subject to another with extraordinary rapidity; or, taking 
up one single subject, they twist and turn it in every way and 
shape, with endless and innumerable repetitions. The thinking 
faculty seems to have escaped from all control and restraint, and 
thought after thought is engendered without any power of the 
patient to direct and regulate them. Sometimes they succeed 
each other with such velocity, that all power of perception is 
destroyed, and the mind, wholly engrossed with this rapid de 
velopment of thoughts, is unable to perceive impressions made 
upon the senses ; the patient goes-on unceasingly raving, apparently 
unconscious of what is taking-place around him; or it may be, that 
his senses have become more acute, and that every word from a 
bystander, or every object presented to his vision, will become the 
nucleus of a new train of thought ; and, moreover, such may be 
the exaltation of his sensual perception, that subjective phenomena 
will arise in connection with each sense, and the patient fancies 
he hears voices or other sounds, whilst ocular spectra in various 
forms and shapes appear before his eyes and excite further rhap- 
sodies of thought." 

The following circumstance, mentioned to the Writer whilst he 
was a student at Edinburgh, remarkably illustrates the influence of 
suggestions derived from external sources, in determining the current 
of thought. — During an epidemic of Fever which had occurred some 
time previously, and in which an active delirium had been a common 
symptom, it was observed that many of the patients of one particular 
I^hysician were possessed by a strong tendency to throw themselves 
out of the window, whilst no such tendency presented itself in 
unusual frequency in the practice of others. The Author's informant,| 

* Lumleian Lectures on the Pathology and Treatment of Delirium and Com* 1 
1850. 



Delirium of Disease. 655 

Dr. C, himself a distinguished Professor in the University, explained 
this tendency by what had occurred within his own knowledge ; he 
having been himself attacked by the fever, and having been under 
the care of this physician, his friend and colleague Dr. A. Another 
cf Dr. A's patients, whom we shall call Mr. B, seems to have been 
the first to make the attempt in question ; and, impressed with the 
necessity of taking due precautions, Dr. A. then visited Dr. C, 
in whose hearing he gave directions to have the windows properly 
secured, as Mr. B. had attempted to throw himself out. Now Dr. C. 
distinctly remembers, that although he had not previously ex- 
perienced any such desire, it came upon him with great urgency 
as soon as ever the idea was thus suggested to him ; his mind being 
just in that state of incipient delirium, which is marked by the 
temporary dominance of some one idea, and by the want of volitional 
power to withdraw the attention from it. And he deemed it probable 
that, as Dr. A. went on to Mr. D., Dr. E., &c., and gave similar 
directions, a like desire would be excited in the minds of all those 
who might happen to be in the same impressible condition. 

549. It must be remarked that there is usually a greater dis- 
order of the perceptive faculty in Delirium, than in ordinary 
dreaming ; for in the former condition, the erroneous images are 
more vividly conceived-of as having an existence external to the 
mind, than they are in the latter ; the illusory visual and audi- 
tory perceptions, which are often excited by real sense-impressions 
(§ 186), having all the force of reality, and being the original 
tource of ideas, instead of (as seems to be rather the case in 
dreaming) their products. — For whilst, in true Dreaming, all 
the images which we believe ourselves to see, or the sounds 
that we fancy ourselves to hear, seem to result from changes in 
the Sensorium excited by Cerebral influence, there is evidently 
in Delirium a disordered action of the Sensorium itself, of which 
Bpectial illusions and other false perceptions are the manifestation. 
This peculiarity probably depends upon a primary affection of the 
Sensorial centres by the morbid poison. The two affections seem 
combined in Delirium tremens. This state, which constitutes a 
46 



656 Of Intoxication a7td Delirium, 

connecting link between Intoxication and Insanity, seems rather 
to arise from perverted and imperfect nutrition of the Brain, than 
from poisoning of the blood ; for it may be produced by other 
agencies which depress the Nervous power, such as great loss of 
])lood, the shock of severe injuries, or extreme cold. It is charac- 
fceiked by a low restless activity of the Cerebrum, manifesting 
itself in muttering delirium, with occasional paroxysms of greater 
violence ; and the nature of this delirium almost always shows the 
mind of the subject of it to be possessed with the apprehension of 
some direful oalamity. He imagines his bed to be covered with 
loathsome reptiles; he sees the walls of his apartment covered 
with foul or terrific spectres; and he supposes the friends or 
attendants who stand around, to be fiends come to drag him down 
into a fiery abyss beneath. Here we have, as in the case of false 
perceptions (§§ 186,187), a misinterpretation of actual Seuse-iiu- 
pxessioiis, under the influence of a dominant Emotional state. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

OP INSANITY. 

550. From the condition of temporary derangement of ths 
functional action of the Brain, which results from the presence of 
poisons in the Blood, we pass to that in which the derangement 
is persistent. Between the state of the well-balanced Mind, in 
which the habit of Self-control has been thoroughly established, 
so that its whole activity is directed by the Moral Will of the 
Ego, — and that of the raving madman, whose reasoning power 
is utterly gone, who is the sport of uncontrollable passion, and 
is lost to every feeling of affection, of right, and even of 
decency, — vast as the interval may seem, there is an insensible 
gradation. For, as has been heretofore more than once remarked, 
there are many individuals abroad in the world, who are so 
much more governed by Impulse than by Reason, that they can 
scarcely be accounted as altogether sane ; whilst there are many 
others, who knowingly surrender the control which they originally 
possessed over their course of thought and action, to the domina- 
tion of a fixed idea, which gradually acquires a complete mastery 
over them (§561). It is not the purpose of this Treatise, 
however, either to discuss the general subject of Insanity, or to 
attempt to draw the line which separates it from Sanity, — which 
is no more possible scientifically (though usually not difficult in 
vractice), than to draw a definite line between bodily health and 
disease. All that it is here desired to do, is to show, on the 
one hand, the relation between the phenomena of Insanity and 
those of healthful activity of the Mind; and, on the other, between 



658 Of Insan ity. 



its disordered Psychical manifestations and morbid conditions of 
the Brain or the Blood. 

551. In the first place, it may be unhesitatingly affii-med that 
there is nothing in the Psychical phenomena of Insanity which 
distinguishes this condition from states that may be temporarily 
induced in minds otherwise healthy; for they are all referable 
either to excess or to deficiency of normal modes of mental 
action. That which is common to every form of Insanity, which 
is frequently its first manifestation, and which, in so far as it 
exists, renders the Lunatic irresponsible for his actions, is deficiency 
of volitional control over the current of thought and feeling, 
and consequently a want of self-direction and self-restraining 
power over the conduct. With this, there may be a general 
disturbance either of intellectual or of emotional activity, or of 
both combined, constituting Mania; or there may be a partial 
or limited disorder, arising from excess or deficiency of some 
particular tendency, constituting Monomania. Not uhfrequently 
an attack which begins w^ith violent Mania, will subside into a 
chronic and comparatively harmless Monomania ; but, on the 
other hand, Monomaniacal patients are often subject to paroxysms 
of Mania ; and, even when there is no such general disturbance, 
the smallest touch on the "sore place" (§ 559 a) may induce a 
dangerous outbreak of passion, which the subject of it has no 
power to control. 

552. It is unquestionable that in a large proportion of 3ases 
of settled Insanity, there is an impairment of the due nutrition 
of the Cerebrum ; and this, which is often an hereditary defect, 
may arise de novo, like abnormal changes in the nutrition of 
other parts, from deficiency or perversion in the formative 
power of the Nervous tissue, or from an imperfect supply or an 
altered character of the Blood. Of the influence of deficient or 
perverted formative power in the Tissue, we have examples in 
the insanity resulting from mechanical injuries of the Brain, aiid 



Causes of hisanity. 659 

from excessive " wear " of the organ by forced activity. Of the 
effects of deterioration in the character of the Blood, we have 
illustrations in the insanity that is often linked-on with con- 
stitutional diseases of which such deterioration is a marked 
feat ure, as well as in that which is so frequent a consequence of 
habitual alcoholic excess. These conditions may exist in com- 
bination ; and it is probably by such a combination that many 
of the so-called " moral causes " of insanity operate. For there 
can be little doubt that Emotional excitement, from its immediate 
relation to Nerve-force (§265), has a direct influence on the forma- 
tive capacity of the Cerebrum ; whilst, on the other hand, we know 
that it has so great an influence over the Organic functions, that 
it can produce very decided alterations in the condition of the 
Blood (Chap. XIX.). But without any serious perversion of the 
nutrition of the Cerebrum, its action may be distiu-bed, either 
by the presence of some poisonous agent in the Blood, or by 
functional disturbance in other parts of the Nervous system. 
We have seen that the Delirium of intoxication, or of fever, is, 
whilst it lasts, a true Insanity ; and it ceases because the poison 
is eliminated from the circulation. But there are many diseases 
in which there is a continual production of a poison within the 
system, whereby the normal train of mental action is deranged so 
long as the blood is tainted by it : the indication of treatment is 
liere obviously to check this production, and to depurate the 
blood ; and when this has been effectually accomphshed, the 
healthy action of the brain is immediately restored, which would 
not have been the case if its nutrition had been seriously impaired., 
Most persons have experienced the extreme emotional depression 
and incapacity for intellectual exertion, which are consequent 
upon certain derangements of the digestive function, and especially 
upon disordered action of the liver, — a cloUd passing away (as 
it were) from the mental vision, a weight being lifted off " the 
spirits," by a dose of blue-pill ; and it is unquestionable thai 



6 6o Of Insanity. 



many forms of Insanity, in which extreme dejection is a pro- 
minent symptom, but which may also include intellectual 
delusions, are solely dependent upon this cause. So, a functional 
disturbance of the Cerebrum is often induced by the irregulai 
action of other parts of the Nervous system, especially thos« 
connected with the reproductive apparatus. Of this we have 
examples in certain peculiar forms of disordered mental action, 
which are connected with " hysterical " states of the female 
system, — in particular, mutability and irritability of temper, and 
disposition to cunning deceit ; and it is a singular fact, well 
known to Medical Jurists, that girls about the age of puberty, 
and suffering under functional irregularities, are sometimes " pos- 
sessed " by a propensity to set fire to their dwellings. It 
frequently happens that agencies of both classes jointly contribute 
to the result : some long-continued defect of nutrition (very often 
arising from hereditary constitution) serving as the " predis- 
posing cause ; " — whilst violent mental emotion, or depravation 
of the blood by noxious matter of some kind, acts as the 
" exciting cause," — the two together producing that effect, which 
neither would singly have brought-about. 

553. The state of Mania is usually characterized by the 
combination of complete derangement of the Intellectual powers* 
with passionate excitement upon every point which in the least 
degree affects the Feelings. There is, however, a considerable 
amount of variety in the symptoms of Mania, depending upon 
differences in the relative degree of intellectual and of emotional 
disturbance. For there may be such a derangement of the 
foimer, as gives-rise to complete incoherence in the succession 0/ 
i ieas, so that the reasoning power is altogether suspended ; and 
yet there may be at the same time an entire absence of emotional 
excitement, so that the condition of the mind is closely allied to 
that of Dreaming or of rambling Delirium. On the other hand, 
the intellectual powers may be themselves but little disturbed, 



Mania. — Intellectual Disorder, 66 1 

the trains of thought being coherent, and the reasoning pro- 
cesses correctly performed ; but there may be such a state of 
general emotional excitability, that nothing is felt as it should 
be, and the most violent passion may be aroused and sustained 
by tlie most trivial incidents, or by the wrong ideas which are 
formed by the mind as a consequence of their misinterpretation 
(§ 264). Between these two opposite states, and that in which 
the disturbance affects at the same time the intellectual and the 
emotional part of the mental nature, there is a complete suc- 
cession of transitional hnks ; but, underlying all phases of this 
condition (these often passing into each other in the same 
individual), there is one constant element, namely, the deficiency 
of Volitional control over the succession of thought and feeling. 
This deficiency appears to be a primary element in those forms 
Thich essentially consist in Intellectual disturbance ; whilst in 
those of which Emotional excitement is the prominent feature, 
it results apparently from the overpowering mastery that is 
exercised over the Will, by the states of uncontrollable passion 
which succeed each other with little or no interval. It seems 
probable, however, from the phenomena of Intoxication (§§ 537, 
644), that the very same agency which is the cause of the 
undue emotional excitability, also tends to produce an absolute 
diminution in the power of volitional control. 

554. It is chiefly (but not solely) in those cases in which the 
Cerebral power has been weakened by a succession of attacks of 
Mania, Epilepsy, or some other disorder which consists in a 
perverted action of the whole organ, that we find the intellectiml 
powers specially and permanently disordered ; the succession 
of thought becoming incoherent, and the perception of those 
relations of ideas on which all reasoning processes depend, being 
more or less completely obscured. The failure usually shows 
itself first in the power of volitional direction, and especially in 
the faculty of recollection. In proportion as the mind is unable 



662 Of Insanity. 



to bring the results of past experience to bear on its present 
operations, do these lose their connectedness and consistency; 
and at last all the ordinary links of association appear to bs 
severed, and the succession of ideas seems altogether disconnected, 
as in the most incoherent kinds of Dreaming. All this may take 
place with or without emotional excitement ; not unfrequently 
tlie la^^ter occurs in paroxysms, which interrupt the otherwise 
tranquil life of the subjects of this form of Insanity ; and it is 
not at all incompatible with this condition, that there should 
be a special excitabilility upon some one point, which, owing to 
the annihilation of the Volitional controlling power, acquires a 
temporary predominance whenever it is called into play. It is 
the general characteristic, however, of this type of Insanity, that 
there are no settled delusions ; the mind not being disposed to 
dwell long upon any one topic, but wandering-off in a rambling 
manner, so as speedily to lose all trace of the starting-point. 
Such patients are unable to recollect what passed through their 
thoughts but a few minutes previously ; if any object of desire 
be placed before them, which it requires a consistent reasoning 
process to attain, they are utterly unable to carry this through ; 
and the direction of their desires is perpetually varying, and 
may be readily altered by external suggestion. Cases of Intel- 
lectual insanity, depending (as this form of the disease usually 
does) upon structural disorder of the Cerebrum, are less amenable 
to treatment than are those of the other forms presently to be 
described ; and their tendency is usually towards complete fatuity. 
555. There may, however, be no primary disorder of the 
Intellectual faculties; and the Insanity may essentially conr^ist 
in a tendency to disordered emotional excitement ; which affects 
the course of thought, and consequently of action, without dis- 
turbing the reasoning processes in any other way than by sup- 
plying wrong materials to them (§ 264). Now the Emotional 
d'^.urbance may be either general or special : that is, there may 



i 



Emotional Disorder. (y^^i 

be a derangement of feeling upon almost every subject, matters 
previously indifferent becoming invested with strong pleasurable 
or painful interest, things which were previously repulsive being 
greedily sought, and those which were previously the most 
attractive being in like manner repelled j or, on the other hand, 
there may be a peculiar intensification of some one class of 
feelings or impulses, which thus acquire a settled domination 
over the whole character, and cause every idea with which they 
connect themselves to be presented to the mind under an erroneous 
aspect. — The first of these forms, now generally termed Moral 
Insanity, may and frequently does exist without any disorder of 
the intellectual powers, or any delusion whatever ; it being (as 
we shall presently see) a result of the generality of the aff'ection 
of the emotional tendencies, that no one of them maintains any 
constant hold upon the mind, one excitement being (as it were) 
driven-out by another. Such patients are among those whose 
treatment requires the nicest care, but who may be most benefited 
by judicious influences. Nothing else is requisite, than that they 
should exercise an adequate amount of self-control ; but the best- 
dii'ected moral treatment cannot enforce this, if the patient do 
not himself (or herself) co-operate. Much may be eftected, 
however, as in the education of children, by presenting adequate 
motives to self-control ; and the more frequently this is exerted, 
the more easy does the exertion become. — This form of Insanity 
is particularly common among females of naturally " quick 
temper," who, by not placing an habitual restraint upon them 
selves, gradually cease to retain any command over it. The 
Writer well remembers that when going with Dr. ConoUy through 
ons of the wards on the female side of the Lunatic Asylum at 
Hanwell Dr. C remarked to him, — "It is my belief that two- 
thirds of the women here have come to require restraint, through 
the habitual indulgence of an originally bad temper." 

556. The more limited and settled disorder of any one portion 



664 Of Insanity. 



of the Emotional nature, however, gives an entirely different 
aspect to the character, and produces an altogether dissimilar 
effect upon the conduct. It is the essential feature of this state, 
that some one particular tendency acquires a dominance over the 
rest ; and this may happen, it would seem, either from an extror 
ordinary exaggeration of the tendency, whereby it comes to over- 
1) laster even a strongly-exercised volitional control ; or, on the other 
hand, from a primary weakening of the volitional control, which 
leaves the predominant bias of the individual free to exercise itself. 
Again, the exaggerated tendency may operate (like an ordinary 
emotion), either in directly prompting to some kind of action 
which is the expression of it, or in modifying the course of 
thought, by habitually presenting erroneous notions upon the 
subjects to which the disordered feeling relates, as the basis of 
intellectual operations. 

557. The first of these forms of Monomania is that which is 
known as impulsive insanity ; and the recognition of its existence 
is of peculiar importance in a jui'idical point of view. For whilst 
the Law of England only recognizes as irresponsible^ on the ground 
of Insanity, those who are incapable of distinguishing right from 
wrong, or of recognizing the consequences of their acts, it is 
unquestionable that many criminal actions are committed under 
the irresistible dominance of some insane impulse, the individual 
being at the time perfectly aware of the evil nature of those 
actions, and of his amenableness to punishment for them. 

The following very characteristic example of the Homicidal form 
of impulsive insanity, was given in the Eeport of the Morningside 
(Edinburgh) Lunatic Asylum for the year 1850. — The case was that 
of a female, who was not affected with any disorder of her Intellec- 
tual powers, and who laboured under no delusions or hallucinations, 
but who was tormented by **a simple abstract desire to kill, or 
rather, for it took a specific form, to strangle. She made repeated 
attempts to effect her purpose, attacking all and sundry, even hei 



Influence of Dominant Ideas, 665 

own nieces and other relatives; indeed, it seemed to be a matter of 
indifference to her whom she strangled, so that she succeeded in 
killing some one. She recovered, under strict discipline, so m.uch self- 
control as to be permitted to work in the washing-house and 
laundry ; but she still continued to assert that she ' must do it,' that 
3he was * certain she would do it some day,' — that she could not help 
it, that * surely no one had ever suffered as she had done,' — was not 
hers * an awf id case ; ' and, approaching any one, she would gently 
bring her hand near their throat, and say mildly and persuasively, ' I 
Would just like to do it.' She frequently expressed a wish that all 
the men and women in the world had only one neck, that she might 
strangle it. Yet this female had kind and amiable dispositions, was 
beloved by her fellow-patients, so much so that one of them insisted 
on sleeping with her, although she herself declared that she was 
afraid she would not be able to resist the impulse to get up 
during the night and strangle her. She had been a very pious 
woman, exemplary in her conduct, very fond of attending prayer- 
meetings, and of visiting the sick, praying with them and reading the 
Scriptures, or repeating to them the sermons she had heard. It was 
the second attack of Insanity. During the former she had attempted 
suicide. The disease was hereditary, and it may be believed that she 
was strongly predisposed to morbid impulses of this character, when 
it was stated that her sister and miother both committed suicide. 
There could be no doubt as to the sincerity of her morbid desires. She 
was brought to the Institution under very severe restraint, and the 
parties who brought her were under great alarm upon the restraint 
being removed. After its removal, she made repeated and very 
determined attacks upon the other patients, the attendants, and the 
officers of the Asylum, and was only brought to exercise sufficient 
self-control by a system of rigid discipline. This female was perfectly 
aware that her impulses were wrong, and that if she had committed 
any crime of violence unier their influence, she would have been ex- 
josed to punishment. She deplored, in piteous terms, the horrible 
l»ropensity under which she laboured." — In the Eeport of the same 
institution for 1853, it is mentioned that this female had been re- 
admitted, after nearly succeeding in strangling her sisters child 
under the prompting of her homicidal impulse. " She displa}^ no 
delusion or perversion of ideas, but is urged- on by an abstract and 



666 Of Insanity. 



uncontrollable impulse to do what she knows to be wrong, and deeply 
deplores." 

Such impulses may drive the subjects of them to kill, to commit 
a rape, to steal, to bum, and so on, without any malicious 
feeling towards the persons injured; and many instances have 
occurred, in which the individuals thus affected have voluntarily 
withdrawn themselves from the circumstances of whose exciting 
influence they were conscious, and have even begged to be put 
under restraint. 

558. It is a remarkable fact, moreover, and one that strikingly 
confirms the view of the nature of Emotional states which has 
been previously advocated (§ 260), that the insane impulse appears 
to be not unfrequently the expression of a dominant idea, with 
which there is no such association of pleasurable feeling as makes 
the action prompted by it an object of denre^ but which operates 
by taking full possession of the mind, and by forcing the body 
(so to speak) into the movements which express it. The indi- 
vidual thus affected regards himself as the victim of a necessity 
which he cannot resist, and may be perfectly conscious (as when 
the impulse proceeds from a strong desire) that what he is doing 
will be injurious to others or to himself. This state bears a 
close resemblance to that of the Biologized " subject," who is 
peremptorily told, " You must do this," and does it accordingly 
(§ 454) ; and it is one that is particularly liable to be induced in 
persons who habitually exercise but little Volitional control over 
the direction of their thoughts, by the influence of suggestions 
from without, and especially by occurrences which take a strong 
1^ old of their attention. 

a. To this condition are to be referred many of the Insane actions 
which are commonly set down to the account of imitation. This 
term would be best restricted to that state of mind, in which there is 
an intention to imitate ; for what is called *' involuntary imitation " 
is merely the expression of the fact, that the consciousness of the 



Influence of Dominant Ideas. 667 

performaDce of a certain act by one individual gives-rise to a tendency 
to its performance by the other (§ 259 &, c), as in the case of the act 
of yawning. So, the commission of suicide or homicide, after an occur- 
rence of the same kind which has previously fixed itself strongly upon, 
the attention, is an ideo-mutor action, prompted by a suggesting idea. 
Thus, it is well known that after the suicide of Lord Castlereagh, a 
large number of persons destroyed themselves in a similar manner« 
Within a week after the " Pentonville Tragedy," in which a man cut 
the throats of his four children, and then his own, there were two 
similar occurrences elsewhere. After the trial of Henriette Corniei* 
for child-murder, which excited a considerable amount of public dis- 
cussion on the question of homicidal insanity, Esquirol was con- 
sulted by numerous mothers, who were haunted by a propensity to 
destroy their offspring. 

h. The following is a remarkable example of the sudden domina- 
tion of a morbid impulse, to which no tendency seems to have been 
previously experienced, and which appears to have been altogether 
devoid of any emotional character. Dr. Oppenheim, of Hamburg, 
having received for dissection the body of a man who had committed 
suicide by cutting his throat, but who had done this in such a 
manner that his death did not take place until after an interval of 
great suffering, jokingly remarked to his attendant, — " If you have 
any fancy to cut your throat, don't do it iu such a bungling way as 
this ; a little more to the left here, and you will cut the carotid 
artery." The individual to whom this dangerous advice was addressed, 
was a sober, steady man, with a family and a comfortable subsist- 
ence ; he had never manifested the slightest tendency to suicide, and 
had no motive to commit it. Yet, strange to say, the sight of the 
corpse, and the observation made by Dr. 0., suggested to his mind 
the idea of self-destruction ; and this took such firm hold of him that 
he carried it into execution, fortunately, however, without duly pi <>- 
fiting by the anatomical instructions he had received ; for he did nut 
CTit the carotid, and recovered. 

559. In D)08t forms of Monomania, however, there is more or 
less of disorder in the ideational process, leading to the formation 
of positive delusions or hallucinations, that is to say, of fixtd 
beliefs or dominant ideas which are palpably inconsistent witb 



668 



Of Insa7iity. 



reality. These delusions, however, are not attributable to original 
perversions of the Reasoning process, but arise out of the perverted 
Emotional state. This gives rise, in the first place, to a mis-inter- 
pretation of actual facts or occurrences, in accordance with the 
prevalent state of the feelings (§ 264). Thus, a lunatic who 
is possessed with an exaggerated feeling of his own importance. 
may suppose himself to be a sovereign prince ; and under the 
influence of this dominant idea, looks upon the place of his 
confinement as his palace, believes his keepers to be his obsequious 
officers, and his fellow-patients to be his obedient subjects; the 
plainest fare is converted into a banquet of the choicest dainties, 
and the most homely dress into royal apparel. His condition, 
therefore, closely corresponds with that of a Biologized subject, 
whose mind may become possessed for a time by similar ideas 
through the influence of external suggestion (§ 451), and who is 
not undeceived by their discordance with objective realities, 
because the force with which the consciousness is impressed by 
the latter, is less than that with which it is acted-on by the former. 
Now and then, perhaps, the Lunatic, like the Biologized sub- 
ject, is visited by a gleam of common-sense, which enables him 
to view certain objects in their true light, so that he becomes 
sensible of some inconsistency between his real and his imaginary 
condition; as when a patient in a Scotch pauper-lunatic asylum, 
after dilating upon the imaginary splendours of his regal state, 
confessed that there was one thing which he could not quite 
comprehend, namely, that all his food tasted of oatmeal! In a 
more advanced state of the disorder, however, ideas which ha\9 
had their origin in the imagination alone, and which it has at 
first presented faintly and transiently, are habitually dwelt on 
in consequence of the interest with which they are invested ; 
and at last become realities to the consciousness of the Ego, 
simply because he does not bring them to the test of actual 
experience. 



EmotioJtal Origin of Dehtsions, 669 

a. The Writer remembers to have heard the following case from 
Dr. A. T. Thomson: — He was requested to see a gentleman whose 
hiends were desirons of placing him under restraint, being well 
assured of his Insanity from the supervention of uncontrollable out- 
breaks of temper (to which he had never previously given way), 
though they could find no ostensible ground in his conversation or 
actions, which would legally justify the use of coercive measures, 
f^everal medical men had been consulted, who had failed to obtain any 
tfuch justification, notwithstanding that they had employed all the 
means which their experience dictated for gaining an insight into the 
nature of his disorder. Dr. Thomson having been introduced to him as 
a scientific man in whose conversation he would feel interested, was 
struck, on entering the room, with the evidence of paroxysms of vio- 
lent passion afi'orded by the shivering of a large pier-glass, the fracture 
of the arms and legs of chairs, and other damages to the handsome 
furniture of the apartments; and he felt convinced that there was 
some perversion of this gentleman's feelings or intellect, which it was 
his business to discover. For this purpose he directed the conversation 
into a great variety of channels ; and being himself a man of very 
comprehensive information and fluent speech, and finding a ready 
response on the other side, he ran through a great variety of topics in 
the course of a couple of hours. He said that he had never enjoyed 
a more agreeable or instructive conversation ; his patient being evi- 
dently a gentleman of great attainments in literature, science, and 
art, and having a most original as well as pleasing manner of ex- 
pressing himself upon every subject that came before him. Dr. 
Thomson was beginning to despair of finding out the mystery of his 
disorder, when it chanced that Animal Magnetism was adverted to ; 
on which the patient began to speak of an influence which some of his 
relatives had acquired over him by this agency, described in the most 
vehement language the sufi'erings he endured through their means, 
and vowed vengeance against his persecutors with such terrible excite- 
ment, that it was obviously necessary, alike for their security and hi3 
own welfare, that he should be placed under restraint. 

Here, it is obvious, the Emotional excitement was the essence of 
the disorder, and the Intellectual delusion was merely the ex- 
pression of it. 

560. This view of the Emotional source of most, if not all, of 



670 Of Insanity, 



the delusions of the Insane, occurred to the Writer in early life, 
through having had his attention strongly drawn to a case in 
which he had the opportunity of observing from its commencement 
till progressive formation of such delusions, and in which the 
varying tenacity of their hold over the intellectual belief (which 
sometimes appeared disposed to get rid of them) corresponded 
exactly with the varying degrees of intensity of the dominant 
emotion. His subsequent experience of other forms of Monomaniaj 
and the results of his inquiries among those who have made In- 
sanity their special study, have fully confirmed this view. 

a. Thus Dr. Skae remarks in the "Morningside Eeport" for 1853, 
that ** nothing can be further from the truth, than to believe that in 
every case of Insanity there must be some delusion, or some perturba- 
tion of the Intellect. Of aU the features of Insanity, morbid impulses, 
emotions, and feelings, and the loss of control over them, are the most 
essential and constant. Delusions, illusions, and hallucinations are, 
comparatively speaking, the accidental concomitants of the disease. 
The former, perhaps, invariably accompany the invasion of disease ; 
the latter are frequently only developed during its progress, and are 
sometimes never present at all." 

b. It is not a little interesting, in this connexion, as well as in the 
additional relation which it indicates between Insanity and the various 
phases of Delirium, Dreaming, &c., that the particular delusion seems 
often to be suggested by accidental circumstances, the mind being 
previously under the influence of some morbid tendency which has 
given the general direction to the thoughts. Thus we find it mentioned 
in the *' Morningside Eeport " for 1850, that the Queen's public visit to 
Scotland seemed to give a special direction to the ideas of several 
individuals who became insane at that period, the attack of insanity 
being itself in some instances traceable to the excitement produced by 
that event. One of the patients, who was afi'ected with puerperal 
mania, believed that, in consequence of her confinement having taken 
place on such a remarkable occasion, she must have given birth to a 
person of royal or divine dignity. — During the religious excitement 
which prevailed at the time of the " disruption" of the Scottish Church, 
an unusually-large number of patients were admitted into the varioua 
asylums of Scotland, labouring under delusions connected with reh- 



Emotional Origin of Delusions, 671 

gion ; the disorder having here also doubtless commenced in an exag- 
geration of this class of feelings, and the erroneous beliefs having been 
formed under their influence. — Again, in the Eeport of the same 
Institution for 1851, it is stated that, as in former instances " the cur- 
rent topics of the day gave colouring and form to the delusions of tho 
disordered fancy. We have thus had no less than five individuals 
admitted during the year, who believe themselves the victims of Mes- 
meric agency (a sort of " Mesmeric mania " having been prevalent in 
Edinburgh during that period) ; " three of the inmates talked much oi 
California, and of the bags full of gold which they had obtained from 
the diggings ; and one of them arrived at the persuasion that his body 
was transmuted into gold." 



561. Every cue who observes the ordinary working of his own 
mind, must be aware how differently he looks at the very same 
occurrences, according to the state of Feeling he is in at the time ; 
and no judicious man will allow himself to act upon any conclusion 
he may have formed under the influence of emotional excitement. 
It is, in fact, in the persistence and exaggeration of some emotional 
tendency, leading to an eiToneous interpretation of everything that 
may be in any way related to it, that Insanity veiy frequently 
commences ; and it is in this stage that a strong efl'ort at self- 
control may be exerted with effect, not merely in keeping down 
the exaggerated emotion, but in determinately directing the 
thoughts into another channel. For there can be no doubt thttt 
while the tendency to hrood upon a particular class of ideas and on 
the feelings connected with them, gives them, if this tendency be 
habitually yielded to, an increasing dominance, — so that they at 
last take full possession of the mind, overmaster the will, and 
consequently direct the conduct, — there is a stage in which the 
will has a great power of preserving the right balance, by steadily 
resisting the " brooding " tendency, calling-ofF the attention from 
the contemplation of ideas which ought not to be entertained 
{^ 271), and directing it into some entirely different channel 

The rf^cords of Crime abound in cases in which murder or attempt 

47 



072 



Of Insanity, 



to murder has been committed under the dominance of an idea or 
feeling, that nas taken such complete possession of the mind, 
as to render the Ego no longer morally responsible for his act 
at the tiim of its commission ; but for which act he is neverthelesa 
remotely responsible (like the drunkard, § 545), because he baa 
allowed himself to become thus possessed, when the means of 
escape lay in his own power. And in the infliction of punishment, 
the same principle ought to be applied to both cases, — that of 
bringing the strongest possible deterrent motives to bear upon 
the minds of those who are meditating such criminalities. 

An extremely good example of the deterrent influence of a judi- 
ciously-devised punishment, was afforded by the stop which was put to 
the repeated alarms to which the Queen was subjected, after the real 
attempt upon her life made by Oxford. The motive in his case seemed 
to be nothing else than morbid vanity ; which was gratified by his 
being tried for high-treason, and made an object of public notoriety. 
Being found " not guilty" on the ground of Insanity (to which it was 
proved that he had an hereditary predisposition), and being placed in 
Bethlehem Hospital as a lunatic, no corrective impression as to punish- 
ment was made upon the class from which he sprung ; and the like 
morbid love of notoriety led one young fellow after another to threaten 
the life of the Queen, by presenting pistols or other weapons when she 
appeared in public. In order to protect her from the repetition of this 
outrage, a bill was carried through the Legislature in the shortest 
possible time, making the offence of presenting any tire-arm at the 
Queen (even if unloaded), a disgraceful one, to be punished with whii) 
ping ; and no more was heard of such attempts for many years, the 
next attempt — that of Lieutenant Pate — being the result of " brood- 
ing " over some fancied injuries. 

562. It is singular how closely the ordinary history of the 
access of Monomania corresponds with that of intoxication by 
Hachisch. A man who has been for some time under the strain of 
severe mental labour, perhaps with the addition of emotional ex 
citement, breaks down in mental and bodily health ; and becomea 
subject to morbid ideas, of whose abnormal character he is in the 



Origin and Progress of Monomania. 673 

first instance quite aware. He may see spectral ilhisions, but he 
knows that they are illusive. He may hear imaginary conversa- 
tions, but is conscious that they are empty words. He feels an 
extreme depression of spirits, but is willing to attribute this to 
some physical cause. He exhibits an excessive irritability of 
temper, but is conscious of his irascibility and endeavours to 
restrain it. He has strange thoughts respecting those who are 
most dear to him, suspects his wife of infidelity, his children of 
wilful disobedience, his most intimate friends of injurious designs ; 
but he has still intelligence enough to question the validity of these 
suspicions, and shrinks from giving them permanent lodgment in 
his breast. Dark visions of futm-e ruin and disgrace flit before him ; 
but he may refuse to contemplate them, may be reasoned into the 
admission of then* utter baselessness, and may second the efforts of 
his friends to direct his thoughts and feelings into a difi'erent 
channel. It is in this stage that change of scene, the withdrawal 
from painful associations, the invigoration of the bodily health, and 
the direction of the Mental activity towards any subject that has a 
healthful attraction for it, exert a most beneficial influence (§ 271 a) ; 
and there can be no doubt that many a man has been saved from an 
attack of Insanity, by the resolute determination of his Will not to 
yield to his morbid tendencies. — But if he should give way to 
these tendencies, and should dwell upon his morbid ideas insti-ad 
of endeavouring to escape from them, they come at l.isi; 
to acquire a complete mastery over him ; and his Will, liia 
Common sense, and his Moral sense, at last succumb to their 
domination. The visual appearances which he at first dis- 
missed as um'eal, become to his mind objects of actual sight ; the 
airy words are conversations which he distinctly hears, and to 
which he gives full credence, however repugnant their import may 
be to his sober sense ; his suspicions of wife, children, and friends 
acqim-e the force of certainties, although they may not have the 
slightest basis of reality ; the conviction of impending ruin is evei 



674 Of Insanity. 

before him, and he makes no effort to escape from it ; no reason- 
ing can now dispel his delusions ; no proof, however clear to tlie 
sane mind, can demonstrate the groundlessness of his uotioDS. 
His temper, now entirely uncontrolled, becomes more and more 
irritable ; the slightest provocations occasion the most violent out- 
breaks \ and these are excited, not merely by the exaggeration or 
misinterpretation of actual occurrences, but by the fictions of his 
own imagination. No conception can be too obviously fallacious 
or absurd, as judged by the sound intellect, to command his assent 
and govern his actions ; for when the directing power of the Will 
is altogether lost, he is as incapable as a Biologized or Hypnotized 
subject, of testing his ideas by their conformity to the general 
result of his previous experience (§ 451), or of keeping his emo- 
tions under due control. 

563. But, it may be said, if Insanity be the expression of dis- 
ordered physical action of the Cerebrum, it is inconsistent to expect 
that a man can control this by any effort of his own ; or that 
moral treatment can have any efficacy in the restoration of 
mental health. Those, however, who have followed the course of 
the argument expounded in this Treatise, will have no difficulty in 
reconciling the two orders of facts. For whilst the disordered 
physical action of the Cerebrum, when once established, puts the 
automatic action of his mind altogether beyond the control of the 
Ego, there is frequently a stage in which he has the power of so 
directing and controlling that action, as to prevent the establishment 
of the disorder ; just as, in the state of perfect health, he has the 
power of forming habits of Mental action, to which the nutrition of 
the Brain responds, so as ultimately to render them automatic? 
(§§ 287, 288). And so, the judicious Physician, in the treatment of 
an insane patient, whilst doing everything he can to invigorate the 
bodily health, to ward off sources of mental disturbance, and to 
divert the current of thought and feeling from a morbid into a 
healthful channel, will sedulously watch for every opportunity of 



Treatment of Insanity. 675 

fostering the power of self-control, will seek out the motives most 
likely to act upon the individual, will bring these into play upon 
every suitable occasion, will approve and reward its successful 
exercise, will sympathize with failure even when having recoiu-se to 
tlie restraint which it has rendered necessary, will encoui*age every 
renewed exertion, and will thus give every aid he can to the 
re-acquirement of that Volitional direction, which, as the bodily 
malady abates, is alone needed to prevent the recurrence of the 
disordered mental action. It is when the patient has so far 
recovered, as to be capable of being made to feel that he can do 
what he ought^ if he will onl}'- try^ that moral treatment becomes 
efficacious. And thus the judicious Physician, when endeavouring 
either to ward-off or to cure Mental disorder, brings to bear upor 
his patient exactly the same power as that which is exerted by an 
Educator of the highest type (§ 290, iii). Each has the high 
prerogative of calling into exercise that element in Man's nature 
which is the noblest gift of his Creator, enabhng him to turn to 
the best account whatever mental endowments he may 
" for the glory of God, and the good of Man's estat^e." 



CHAPTER XIX. 

ittfijUencje of mental states on the organic functioks. 

564. It has been shown in the preceding Chapters how close is 
the dependence of the normal action of the Brain upon an adequate 
supply of pure Blood : serious reduction in its quantity at once 
producing deficient mental activity ; whilst a depravation of its 
quality occasions a perversion of that activity. And thus it comes 
to pass that very slight departures from the health of the Body 
exert a most powerful influence upon our intellectual^ and still 
more upon our emotional condition, through the deterioration they 
produce in the circulating fluid (§ 552). The functional activity of 
the Brain is also aff'ected, through its nervous connections, by the 
physical condition of remote parts of the body ; various aberrant 
phenomena being traceable to such " morbid sympathies.*'* But 
what we have now to consider is the converse power exerted by 
Mental states over the functions of Nutrition and Secretion, so as 
to modify not merely the movements, but the molecular actions, 
of various parts of the body. This power (it has been already 
shown, §§ 112-115) is for the most part exercised through the 
Sympathetic system of Nerves ; and whilst the regulation of the 
calibre of the arteries, which determines the quantity of blood 
iupplied to each part, seems to be eff'ected through the motor 
fibres which that system receives from the Cerebro-spinal, its 
influence over the condition of the Blood itself, and the use that 
is made of it, appears to be exerted through its own proper fibres 
and ganglia. 

* See especially Dr. Laycock's Treatise " On the Nervous Diseases of Women** 



Exciteme7it of Secretions by Mental States, 6'jj 

565. Much of the action exerted by the Vaso-motor system of 
Nerves (§ 113) has obvious reference to the harmonization of the 
Organic functions with each other. Thus, to take a very simple 
and familiar case, when a particle of dust lodges between the eye 
and the eyelid, an increased flow of tears is produced by the dilata- 
tion of the arteiy that supplies the lachrymal gland ; so as, if the 
particle be net too large, to wash it down into the inner comer 
of the eye, from which it may be easily removed. So, again, the 
introduction of food into the mouth produces an immediate flow of 
saliva for its mastication ; while at the same time there is an out- 
pouring of gastric juice into the stomach, in preparation for its diges- 
tion; the production of both these secretions being due to the increase 
of the supply of blood proceeding in the one case to the salivary 
glands, and in the ether to the gastric follicles contained in the 
coats of the stomach. But a flow of saliva may be occasioned in 
a hungry man, by the sight, the smell, or even the thought, of 
savoiuy food; and it has been ascertained by experiments on 
dogs, that a flow of gastric juice takes place into their stomachs, 
when, after long fasting, attractive food is placed before them. 
So, the free secretion of milk, excited by suction applied to the 
nipple, is also producible in the nursing mother by the sight, by 
the cry, or even by the thought of her infant (§500 a), which occa- 
sions the dilatation of the mammary artery (analogous to the act 
of blushing) that permits the rush of blood to the Mammary gland 
known as "the draught." — Now in none of these cases has the will 
any influence whatever ; the mental state which determines the 
result being an emotional one, which may be linked-on either to 
a perception or to an idea, according as the object that calls it 
forth is actually or only " subjectively" present. And the direct 
iiiQuence of the Emotions upon the quantity of these Secretions is 
s'lown by numerous other facts. 

a. Thus, the secretion of Tears, which is continually being formed 
to an extent sufEcient to lubricate the surface of the eyes, is poured 



678 Influence of Mental States on Organic Fttnctions, 

out in great abundance under the moderate excitement of the emo- 
tions, either of joy, tenderness, or grief. It is checked, however, by 
violent grief ; and it is a vs^ell-kno-wn indication of moderated sorrow, 
•when tears '* come to the relief" of the sufferer. 

6. So, the Salivary secretion may be suspended by strong emotion ; 
a fact of which advantage is taken in India for the discovery of a thief 
among the servants of a family, — each of them being required to hold 
a certain quantity of rice in his mouth during a few minutes, and the 
offender being generally distinguished by the dryness of his mouthful. 

c. That the Gastric secretion may be entirely suspended by power- 
ful emotion, clearly appears as well from the results of experiments 
on animals, as from the well-known influence exerted by a sudden 
Mental shock (whether painful or pleasurable), in dissipating the 
appetite for food, and in suspending the digestive process when in 
active operation. Several other secretions are affected in a similar 
manner by emotional excitement : thus the special odoriferous secre- 
tions of many animals are poured forth under alarm with such 
potency as to constitute their special means of defence ; and in some 
human beings the cutaneous secretion becomes strongly ammoniacal, 
when either fear or bashfulness is strongly excited. 

h^^. There is no Secretion, however, on the quality as well as 
the quantity of which Emotional states have so obvious an influence, 
as they have upon that of milk ; and this point, being one of great 
practical importance, as well as of scientific interest, will be here 
dwelt-on in some detail, — conclusive evidence of such alterations 
being afforded by the disorder produced by the altered secretion 
in the digestive system of the infant, which is a more delicate 
apparatus for testing its quality, than any that the chemist could 
devise. The following general statements on this subject were 
made by Sir Astley Cooper, as the result of extended and careful 
enquiries : — 

a. ** The secretion of Milk proceeds best in a tranquil state of mindy 
and with a cheerful temper ; then the milk is regularly abundant, and 
agrees well with the child. On the contrary, a fretful temper lessena 
tlie quantity of milk, makes it thin and serous, and causes it to disturb 
the child's bowels, producing intestinal fever and much griping. Fita 



Perversion of Secretions by Emotional Excitement. 6 79 

0/ miger produce a very irritating milk, followed by griping in tho 
infant, with green stools. Qrief has a great influence on lactation, 
and consequently upon the child. The loss of a near and dear rela- 
tion, or a change of fortune, will often so much diminish the secretion 
of milk, as to render adventitious aid necessary for the support of the 
chUd. Anxiety of mind diminishes the quantity, and alters the 
(Quality, of the milk. The reception of a letter which leaves the mind 
in anxious suspense, lessens the draught, and the breast becomes 
empty. If the child be ill, and the mother is anxious respecting it, 
she complains to her medical attendant that she has little milk, and 
that her infant is griped and has frequent green and frothy motions. 
Fear has a powerful influence on the secretion of milk. I am informed 
by a medical man wh© practises much among the poor, that the 
apprehension of the brutal conduct of a drunken husband will put a 
stop for a time to the secretion of milk. When this happens, the 
breast feels knotted and hard, flaccid from the absence of milk, and 
that which is secreted is highly irritating; and some time elapses 
before a healthy secretion returns. Terror, which is sudden and great 
fear, instantly stops this secretion." Of this, two striking instances, 
in which the secretion, although previously abundant, was completely 
arrested by this emotion, are detailed by Sir A. Cooper. 

There is even evidence that the Mammary secretion may acquire 
an actually poisonous character, under the influence of violent 
mental c><citement ', for certain phenomena which might otherwise 
be regarded in no other light than as simple coincidences, appear 
to justify this inference, when interpreted by the less striking but 
equally decisive facts already mentioned. 

ft. *'A carpenter fell into a quarrel with a soldier billeted in his 
house, and was set-upon by the latter with his drawn sword. The 
?«7ife of the carpenter at first trembled from fear and terror, and then 
suddenly threw herself furiously between the combatants, wrested the 
i-woid from the soldier's hand, broke it in pieces, and threw it away. 
During the tumult, some neighbours came in and separated the men. 
While in this state of strong excitement, the mother took up her 
child from the cradle, where it lay playing and in the most perfect 
health, never having had a moment's illness ; she gave it the breast, 
and in so doing sealed its fate. In a few minutes the infant left-oflf 



68o hifluence of Mental States on Organic Ftmctio7is. 

Bucking, became restless, panted, and sank dead upon its m other' a 
bosom. The physician who was instantly called-in, found the shild 
lying in the cradle, as if asleep, and with its features undisturbed ; 
but all his resources were fruitless. It was irrecoverably gone."* 

In this interesting case, the milk seems to have undergone a 
change which gave it a powerful sedative action upon the susceptibla 
L ervous system of the infant. 

c. Similar facts are recorded by other writers. — Mr. Wardrop 
mentions (" Lancet,^"* No. 516), that having removed a small tumour 
fiom behind the ear of a mother, all went well until she fell into a 
violent passion ; and the child, being suckled soon afterwards, died in 
convulsions. He was sent-for hastily to see another child in convul- 
sions, after taking the breast of a nurse who had just been severely 
reprimanded ; and he was informed by Sir Eichard Croft, that he had 
seen many similar instances. — Three others are recorded by Burdaoh 
{'^ Fhysiologie,^'' § 522). In one of them, the infant was seized with 
convulsions on the right side and hemiplegia on the left, on sucking 
immediately after its mother had met with some distressing occur- 
rence. Another case was that of a puppy, which was seized with 
epileptic convulsions, on sucking its mother after a fit of rage. 

The following, which occurred within the Writer's own knowledge, 
is perhaps equally valuable to the Physiologist, as an example of 
the similarly-fatal influence of undue emotion of a different cha- 
racter ; and should serve, with the preceding, as a salutary warning 
to Mothers, to prevent themselves from brooding over depressing 
ideas, as they would from indulging in passionate excitement. 

d. A lady having several children, of which none had manifested 
any particular tendency to cerebral disease, and of which the youngest 
was a healthy infant a few months old, heard of the death (from acute 
hydrocephalus) of the infent child of a friend residing at a distance, 
with whom she had been on terms of close intimacy, and whose 
family had increased almost simultaneously with her own. The cir- 
cumstance naturally made a strong impression on her mind ; and «he 

* Dr. Von Ammon, quoted in Dr. A. Combe's excellent little work on " The 
Management of Infancy." — See also Dr. Kellog's case, quoted in Dr. Tuke'e 
** Illustrations of the Influence of the Mind upon the Body." 



Perversion of Nutrition by Emotional Excitement, 68 1 

seems to have dwelt upon it tlie more, as she happened at that period 
to be separated from the rest of her family, and to be much alone 
with her babe. One morning, shortly after having nursed it, she laid 
the infant in its cradle, asleep and apparently in perfect health; 
her attention was shortly attracted to it by a noise ; and on going tc 
the cradle, she found her infant in a convulsion, which lasted a few 
moments and then left it dead. 

l^ow. although the influence of the Emotion is less unequivocally 
displayed in this case than in the preceding, it can scarcely be a 
matter of doubt ; since it is natui'al that no feeling should be 
stronger in the Mother's mind under such circumstances, than the 
fear that her own beloved child should be taken from her, as that 
of her friend had been ; and it is probable that she had been par- 
ticularly dwelling on it, at the time of nursing the infant on that 
morning. 

567. There is abundant evidence that a sudden and violent ex- 
citement of some depressing emotion, especially terror, may pro- 
duce a severe and even a fatal disturbance of the Organic functions ; 
with general symptoms (as Guislain has remarked) so strongly 
resembling those of sedative poisoning, as to make it highly 
probable that the hlood is directly affected by the emotional state, 
through nervous agency ; and, in fact, the emotional alteration of 
the secretions seems much more probably attributable to some such 
affection of the Blood, than to a primary disturbance of the secret- 
ing process itself. Although there can be no doubt that the habitual 
state of the emotional sensibility has an important influence upon 
the general activity and perfection of the nutritive processes, — as is 
shown by the well-nourished appearance usually exhibited by those 
who are free from mental anxiety as well as from bodily ailment, 
&)utrasted with the "lean and hungiy look" of those who are a 
prey to continual disquietude, — yet it is not often that we have the 
opportimity of obsei^ing the production of disorder in the Nutritioo 
of any specific part, by such influence. The two following cases, 
however, in which local disorder of nutrition followed upon power' 



682 Infiueiice of Meitial States on Organic Functions. 

ful emotion, determined as to their seat by the intense direc^.ion 
of the attention to a particular part of the body, rest upon excellent 
authority. 

a. "A lady, who was watching her little child at play, saw a heafj 
<rindow-sash fall upon its hand, cutting off three of the fingers; and 
flhe was so much overcome by fright and distress, as to be unable to 
rtiuder it any assistance. A surgeon was speedily obtained, who, 
having dressed the wounds, turned himself to the mother, whom he 
found seated, moaning, and complaining of pain in her hand. On 
examination, three fingers, corresponding to those injured in the 
child, were discovered to be swollen and inflamed, although they had 
ailed nothing prior to the accident. In four- and- twenty hours, inci- 
sions were made into them, and pus was evacuated; sloughs were 
afterwards discharged, and the wounds ultimately healed." — [Garter 
on the Pathology and Treatment of Hysteria, p. 24.) 

Z>. " A highly intelligent lady known to Dr. Tuke related to him that 
one day she was walking past a public institution, and observed a 
child, in whom she was particularly interested, coming out through 
an iron gate. She saw that he let go the gate after opening it, and 
that it seemed likely to close upon him, and concluded that it would do 
so with such force as to crush his ankle ; however, this did not happen. 
' It was impossible,' she says, ' by word or act to be quick enough to 
m.eet the supposed emergency; and, in fact, I found I could not move, 
for such intense pain came on in the ankle, corresponding to the one 
which I thought the boy would have injured, that I could only put my 
hand on it to lessen its extreme painfulness. / am sure I did not move 
60 as to strain or sprain it. The walk home — a distance about a 
quarter of a mile — was very laborious, and in taking off my stocking 
I found a circle round the ankle, as if it had heen painted with red cur- 
rant juice, with a large sj)ot of the same on the outer part. By morning 
the whole foot was inflamed, and I was a prisoner to my bed many 
days.' " — [Influence of the Mind upon the Body, p. 260.) 

668. The influence of the state of expectant attention, in modi- 
fying the processes of Nutrition and Secretion, is not less remark- 
able than we have seen it to be in the production of muscular 
movements (§ 238 et seq.) The Volitional direction of the con- 
sciousness to a part, independently of emotional excitement, suffices 



Cure of Diseases by Expectant Attention, 683 

to call forth sensations in it, which seem to depend upon a 
change in its circulation (§ 129) ; and if this state be kept up 
automaticallj by the attraction of the attention, the change may 
become a source of modification, not only in the functional action, 
but in the Nutrition of the part. Thus, there can be no doubt 
that real disease often supervenes upon fancied ailment, especially 
through the indulgence of what is known as the hypochondriacal 
tendency to dwell-upon uneasy sensations ; these sensations being 
themselves, in many instances, purely "subjective" (§ 143). 
In many individuals (especially females) whose sympathies 
are strong, a pain in any part of the body may be produced by 
witnessing in another, or even by hearing described, the sufFeringa 
occasioned by disease or injury of that part ; and if this pain be 
attended-to and believed-in as an indication of serious mischief, 
injurious consequences are very likely to follow. So, again, the 
self-tormenting hypochondriac will imagine himself the victim of 
any malady that he may " fancy ;" and if this fancy should be 
sufficiently persistent and engrossing, it is not unlikely to lead to 
real disease of the organ to which it relates. This persistent 
direction of the attention has a much greater potency, when com- 
bined with the expectation of a particular result ; and thus it 
happens that the spells of pretenders to occult powers, in all 
ages and nations, often produce the predicted maladies in the 
subjects who are credulous enough to believe in their efficacy. 
Such was formerly the case among the Negroes of the British West 
Indies, to such a degree that it was found necessary to repress 
what were known as " Obeah practices" by penal legislation ; a 
slow pining- away, ending in death, being the not uncommon result 
of the fixed belief on the part of the victim, that " Obi" had been 
put upon him by some old man or woman reputed to possess the 
injurious power. So gi-eat, indeed, was the dread of these spells, 
that the mere threat of one party to a quarrel to " put Obi" upon 
the other was often sufficient to terrify the latter into submission. 



684 Influence of Meittal States on Organic Ftmctions, 

And there is adequate ground for the assertion, that even amongst 
the better instructed classes of our own country, a fixed belief that 
a mortal disease had seized upon the frame, or that a particular 
operhtion or system of treatment would prove unsuccjessful, half 
been in numerous instances the real occasion of a fatal result. 

569. But, on the other hand, the same Mental state may opeirato 
beneficially, in checking a morbid action and restoring the healthy 
state. That the confident expectation of a cure is the most potent 
means of bringing it about, doing that which no Medical treatment 
can accomplish, may be affii-med as the generahzed result of expe- 
riences of the most varied kind, extending through a long series of 
ages. For it is this which is common to methods of the most diverse 
character; some of them, — as the Metallic Tractors, Mesmerism, 
and Homoeopathy, — pretending to some physical power ; whilst to 
others, as the invocations of Prince Hohenlohe, and the commands 
of Dr. Vernon or the Zouave Jacob, some miraculous influence 
was attributed. It has been customary, on the part of those who 
do not accept either the " physical" or the " miraculous" hypo- 
thesis as the interpretation of these facts, to refer the effects either 
to "imagination" or to "faith;" — two mental states apparently 
incongruous, and neither of them rightly expressing the condition on 
which they depend. For although there can be no doubt that in 
a great number of cases the patients have believed themselves to be 
cured, when no real amelioration of their condition had taken place, 
yet there is a large body of trustwortliy evidence, that permanent 
amendment of a kind perfectly obvious to others, has shown itself 
in a great variety of local maladies, when the patients have bean 
sufficiently possessedby the expectation of benefit, and by/at^A in the 
efficacy of the means employed.* " Any system of treatment," it 
has been recently remarked, " however absurd, that can be ' puffed' 
into public notoriety for efficacy, — any individual who, by accident 

* A valuable collection of such evidence is contained in Dr. Tuke's ** Illustratioui 
of the Influence of the Mind upon t'le Body in Health and Disease," Chap. XVI. 



Cure of Diseases by Expectant Attention. 685 

or design obtains a reputation for the possession of a special gift of 
healing, — is certain to attract a multitude of sufterers, among 
whom will be several who are capable of being really benefited by 
a strong assurance of relief, whilst others, for a time, helieve them- 
selves to have experienced it. And there is, for the same reason, 
no religious system that has attained a powerful hold on the 
minds of its votaries, which cannot boast its 'miracles' of this 
order." 

*' a. Nothing, for example, can be more complete than the attesta- 
tion of a very remarkable cure which took place in the Nunnery of 
Port Eoyal, in the person of one of the young scholars, a niece of 
Pascal, who was affected with an aggravated fistula lachrymalis, at a 
time when the hostility of the Jesuits and the Jansenists was at its 
height. The poor girl had been threatened with the ' actual cautery ' 
by the eminent surgeon under whose care she was, as the only way of 
getting rid of the disease of the bones of the nose, which manifested 
itself in intolerable foetor ; and the day was fixed for its application. 
Two days previously, however, the patient walked in procession before 
a * Holy Thorn,' which was being exhibited with great ceremony in 
the chapel of the convent ; and was recommended by the nuns, as she 
passed before the altar, to apply the precious relic to her eye, and 
implore relief from the dreaded infliction. This she did, no doubt, 
with the most childlike confidence and heartfelt sincerity ; and her 
faith was rewarded by the favourable change which took place within 
a few hours, and which had so far advanced hy the time of the 
surgeon's next visit, that he wisely did not interfere, the cure in a 
short time becoming complete. Of course, this ' miracle ' was vaunted 
by the Jansenist party as indicating the special favour of the Virgin, 
whilst the Jesuits could scarcely bring themselves to believe in its 
reality. A most careful enquiry was made by direction of the Court ; 
the testimony of the surgeons and others, who knew the exact condi- 
tion of the patient both before and after the ' miracle ' (that condition 
being patent to their observation), was conclusive ; and the reality of 
the cure could no longer be denied, though it remained inconceivable 
to the Jesuits that a miracle should have been worked in favour of 
their opponents. — Full details of this remarkable incident are given in 
Mrs. Schimmelpenninck's ' History of the Port Eoyalists.' 

** fc. No fact of this kind rests on a. wider basis of testimony, than 



bS6 Infltience of Mental States on Organic Attention. 

the efficacy of the royal touch in the * king's evil.' The readers of 
Macanlay's ' History ' will remember that when the honest good sense 
of William the Third made him refuse to exercise the power with 
which he was undoubtedly credited by the great mass of hi* subjects, 
an overwhelming mass of evidence was brought together as to the 
' balsamic virtues of the royal hand.' Not only theologians of eminent 
learning, ability, and virtue, gave the sanction of their authority to 
this belief; but some of the principal surgeons of the day certified 
that the cures were so numerous and rapid that they could not b& 
attributed to any natural cause, and that the failures were to be 
ascribed to want of faith on the part of the patients. Charles the 
Second, in the course of his reign, had 'touched' near a hundred 
thousand persons ; and James, in one of his progresses, ' touched ' 
eight hundred persons in Chester Cathedral. William's refusal ta 
continue the practice brought upon him the outcries of the parents of 
scrofulous children against his cruelty ; whilst bigots lifted up theii* 
hands and eyes in horror at his impiety. Jacobites sarcastically 
praised him for not presuming to arrogate to himself a power which 
belonged only to legitimate sovereigns ; and even some Whigs thought 
that he acted unwisely in treating with such marked contempt a 
superstition which had so strong a hold on the vulgar mind. 

" c. There are, probably, persons yet living who remember the 
reputed effi.cacy of ' Perkins's Metallic Tractors,' which was made the 
subject of a very careful investigation by Dr. Haygarth, an eminent 
physician, of Bath, and Mr. Richard Smith, a distinguished surgeon of 
Bristol, in the early part of the present century. These gentlemen 
satisfied themselves that real benefit was often derived from the use of 
the Tractors, which were supposed to exert the ' galvanic agency ' 
then newly discovered ; but that the same benefit was obtainable from 
the similar manipulation of two pieces of wood painted to resemble 
them, the faitli of the patient being the condition required. 

" d. Within our own recollection, the ' miracles' of Prince Hohonlohe 
were as well attested as any of the kind that have been worked 
bef "jre or since ; these were succeeded by the therapeutic marvels 
of Mesmerism, which can all be accounted for by the like agency; 
and within the last few years we have seen the * spiritual ' cures 
of Dr. Newton at least equalled by those worked by the Zouave 
Jacob." 

" Each reputation of this kind has its period of growth, maturity, 



Cttre of Diseases by Expectant Attention. 687 

decline, and death ; and we should confidently anticipate that 
before the lapse of many years, the * Spiritual ' cures will, in like 
manner, have passed into the limbo of forgotten wonders of the 
same description, if it were not that the belief in them is only one 
if the manifestations of a morbid condition of the popular mind^ 
the origin of which unfortunately lies very deep in its constitu- 
tion."— (^warierZy Review, Oct. 1871, pp. 323-5). 

570. There is no more satisfactory example of the influence of 
Expectant Attention " pure and simple," than is afforded by the 
charming-away of warts : for the disappearance of these ex- 
crescences has so frequently occurred within the experience of 
trustworthy observers, in close connection with this psycliical 
treatment, that we must disbelieve in the efficacy of any remedies, 
if we do not accept this, 

o. ** In one case," says Dr. Tuke {op. cit., p. 365), "a relative 
of mine had a troublesome wart on the hand, for which I made use 
of the usual local remedies, but without effect. After they were 
discontinued, it remained in statu quo for some time, when a 
gentleman ' charmed ' it away in a few days." 

h. The same author continues: — "A surgeon informs me that 
some years ago his daughter had about a dozen warts on her hands. 
They had been there about eighteen months, and her father had 
applied caustic and other remedies without success. One day a 
gentleman called, and, in shaking hands with Miss C, remarked 
upon her disfigured hand. He asked her how many she had ; she 
replied that she did not know, but thought about a dozen. * Count 
them, will you,' said the caller ; and, taking out a piece of paper, 
he solemnly took down her counting, remarking, * You will not be 
troubled with your warts after next Sunday,' By the day named 
the warts disappeared, and did not return." 

c. Two similar cases have occurred within the Writer's personal 
knowledge. In one, the warts were disposed of by "counting;" in 
the other, by touching each singly with coloured water; — the 
assured conviction of its success being (of course) the condition of 
the efficacy of the ** spell." 
48 



688 Influence of Mental States on Organic Ftuictions^ 



671. It is not a little remarkable that the influence of Mental 
states should be unmistakeably manifested, not only in maladies in 
which Nervous disorder has a large share, but also in some — as 
Scurvy and Gout — which seem to depend upon the existence of a 
definite perversion in the condition of the Blood. 

a. Thus, during the Siege of Breda in 1625, the garrison having boec 
reduced to a state of extreme distress by Scurvy in its severest form, 
attended with a great mortality, so that the city was on the point of 
capitulating, the Prince of Orange managed to send word that the 
BuflFerers should soon be provided with medicines of the greatest 
efficacy. Three small phials, containing a decoction of camomile, 
wormwood, and camphor, were put in the hands of each physician; 
and it was publicly given out that three or four drops were sufficient 
to impart a healing virtue to a gallon of liquor, — not even the com- 
manders being let into the secret. The effect of the soldiers' faith in 
the efficacy of the " prince's remedy " was most marvellous ; for not 
only was the further spread of the disease checked, but a large propor- 
tion of those who were then suffering under it, including many who 
had been for some time completely invalided, recovered very rapidly. 
(See Lind on Scurvy, p. 352.) — It is well known, on the other hand, 
that mental depression is one of the most potent of the *' predisposing 
causes " of Scurvy. 

h. There are numerous well-authenticated cases, in which a severe 
fit of Gout has been suddenly dissipated by violent emotion. And Dr. 
Eush recorded one in which an old farmer, languishing under severe 
infirmity caused by repeated attacks of this disease, was not only 
cured of the particular fit, but was restored to perfect health, by the 
fright and anger brought on by the careless driving of one of his sons, 
which caused the window- sash near which he was lying to be broken- 
in.— (See Tuke, op. cit.y pp. 368.) 

572. In all ages, the possession of men's minds by " dominant 
ideas" has been most complete, when these ideas have been rc- 
ligious aberrations. And hence it is only to be expected that the 
effects of such " possession " should exert an unusually powerful 
influence on the Organic functions, as we have seen it to do on 
Muscular actions (§§ 258, 259). There is to the Writer's mind. 



Stigmatization of Ecstaticas. 689 



therefore, nothing either incredible or miraculous in the numerous 
recorded cases of " stigmatization,*' i.e., the appearance of wounds 
upon the hands and feet, on the forehead, and on the side, — • 
corrssponding with those of the crucified Jesus, — from which blood 
has periodically flowed. The subjects of these cases were mostly 
"Ecstaticas;" i.e., females of strongly Emotional temperaments, 
^'ho fell into a state of profound Reverie, in which their minds 
were entirely engrossed by the contemplation of their Savioui*'a 
sufferings, with an intense direction of their sympathetic attention 
to his several wounds. And the power which this state of Mind 
would have on the local action of the corresponding parts of their 
own bodies (§ 567, a, 6), gives a definite Physiological rationale 
for what some persons accept as genuine miracles, and others 
repudiate as the tricks of imposture. 

a. The most recent case of this kind, that of Louise Lateau, has 
undergone a scrutiny so careful, on the part of Medical men deter- 
mined to find out the deceit, if such should exist, that there seems 
no adequate reason for doubting its genuineness. This young 
Belgian peasant had been the subject of an exhausting illness, from 
which she recovered rapidly after receiving the Sacrament; a cii-- 
cumstance which obviously made a strong impression on her mind. 
Soon afterwards, blood began to issue every Friday from a spot in her 
left side ; in the course of a few months, similar bleeding spots estab- 
lished themselves on the front and back of each hand, and on the upper 
surface of each foot, while a circle of small spots formed on the fore- 
head ; and the haemorrhage from these recurred every Friday, some- 
times to a considerable amount. About the same time, fits of 
"ecstasy" began to occur, commencing every Friday between 8 and 
9a.m,, and ending at about 6 p.m. ; interrupting her in conversation, 
in piayer, or in manual occupations. This state appears to have 
been intermediate between that of the Biologized and that of the Hyp- 
notized subject ; for whilst as unconscious as the latter of all Sense- 
impressions, she retained, like the former, a recollection of all that 
had passed through her mind during the "ecstasy." She described 
herself as suddenly plunged into a vast flood of bright light, from 
which more or less distinct forms soon began to evolve themselves ; 



690 Infltcence of Mental States on Organic Fmictions, 

and she then witnessed the several scenes of the Passion successively 
passing befoie her. She minutely described the cross and the vest- 
ments, the wounds, the crown of thorns about the head of the 
Saviour ; and gave various details regarding the persons about the 
cross, — the disciples, holy women, Jews, and Eoman soldiers. And 
the progress of her vision might be traced by the succession of actioua 
ehe performed at different stages of it ; most of these being movements 
t'xpressive of her own emotions ; whilst regularly about 3 p.m. she 
extended her limbs in the form of a cross. The fit terminated with a 
state of extreme physical prostration : the pulse being scarcely 
perceptible, the breathing slow and feeble, and the whole surface 
bedewed with a cold perspiration. After this state had continued, 
for about ten minutes, a return to the normal condition rapidly took 
place. — These last phenomena, which were paralleled to a certain degree 
in Mr. Braid's experiments, seem quite beyond the power of inten- 
tional simulation ; while the tests applied to determine the possibility 
of the artificial production of the stigmata and of the issue of blood 
from them, appear no less conclusive as to their non-simulation. 
{Macmillan'' s Magazine, April, 1871.) 

As the transudation of Blood from the skin through the per- 
spiratory ducts (apparently through the rupture of the walls of 
the cutaneous capillaries) under strong Emotional excitement, is 
a well-authenticated fact (see Tuke, op. cit., p. 267), there is 
nothing in the foregoing narration that the Physiologist need fiud 
any difficulty in accepting. 



CHAPTER XX. 

Of MIND AND WILL. IN NATURE. 

573. The views expressed in the preceding pages as to the 
constitution of the Mind of Man, and its relation to his Bodily 
Organism, appear to the Writer to be capable of legitimate exten- 
sion to the notion which we form of the Mind of the Deity in its 
relation to that Universe, whose phenomena, so interpreted, are 
but a continual revelation of His universal presence and ceaseless 
agency. And he deems it desirable here to advert to this subject 
(foreign though it may seem to the proper object of this Treatise), 
for the sake of showing not merely that the doctrine herein pro- 
pounded is strictly conformable to the highest teachings of Reli- 
gion, but that it affords some guidance towards the solution of 
difficulties which have perplexed many deep-thinking men, and 
which have (especially of late) tended to keep Science and Religion 
in mutual antagonism, instead of in that harmonious co-operation 
which should spring from the intimacy of their relationship. For, 
as Mr. Martineau has well said, " Science discloses the Method of 
the world, but not its Cause ; Religion its Cause, but not its 
Method ; and there is no conflict between them, except when 
either forgets its ignorance of what the other alone can know." 
{^National Review, Vol. xv., p. 398.) If, then, a means can be found 
for their complete reconcilement, it is obvious that each will gain 
by their accord : — Science, by being led to regard all the pheno- 
mena of Nature as manifestations of the constant and all-pervading 
energy of a Mind of infinite perfection ; — Religion, by obtaining 
that expansion and definition of its ideas as to the unlimited range 



I 



692 Of Mi7td and Will in Nature, 

and predetermined order of the Divine operations, which the 
Scientific conception of them can alone afford (§§ 586-588). 

574. In the first place, it should be clearly understood that 
Science is nothing else than Man's Intellectual representation of 
the phenomena of Nature, — his conception of the Order of the 
Univei-se in the midst of which he is placed. That conception is 
foimulated in what he terms Laws of Nature ; which, in their 
j)rimary sense, are simply expressions of phenomenal uniformities^ 
having no coercive power whatever. The whole problem of the 
Scientific investigation of Nature from this point of view has been 
thus stated by Mr. J. S. Mill in his System of Logic : — " What are 
the fewest assumptions, which being granted, the Order of Nature 
as it exists would be the result 1 What are the fewest general 
propositions, from which all the Uniformities existing in Nature 
could be deduced % '* — Of such propositions we have a characteristic 
type in Kepler's three Laws of Planetary Motion ; which simply 
express the systematized results h« obtained by his comparison of 
the observed places of Mars, and the definite proportion he dis- 
covered between the times and distances of the six Planets known 
to him ; without affording any valid ground for the assurance that 
the same Laws would hold good elsewhere. And the motions of other 
Planets could no more be said to be " explained " or " accounted 
for," by their conformity to those of Mars, than the fall of a stone 
to the ground would be "explained" or " accounted- for " by the 
statement that " all stones (unsupported) fall to the ground," — 
the multiplication of similar phenomena only leading to the con- 
clusion that there is a common Cause for the whole, without giving 
any indication of what that cause is. — The utmost hold that purely 
phenomenal Laws can have u])on our minds, is derived from that 
Belief in the Uniformity of Nature, which has become one of our 
primary Tendencies of Thought (§ 201). As Mr. Herbert Spencer 
has well remarked {First PrincipUs, p. 142): — 

" All minds have been advancing towards a belief in the constancy 



Doctrine of Causation. 693 

of surrounding co-existences and sequences. Familiarity with special 
uniformities has generated the abstract conception of Uniformity — 
the idea of Law ; and this idea has been in successive generations slowly 
gaining fixity and clearness. . . . Wherever there exist phenomena 
of which the dependence is not yet ascertained, these most cultivated 
intellects, impelled by the conviction that here, too, there is some 
invariable connection, proceed to observe, compare, and experiment ; 
aud when they discover the law to which the phenomena conform, 
as they eventually do, their general belief in the universality of 

Law is further strengthened This habitual recognition cf 

LaT^ distinguishes modern thought from ancient thought." 

To speak of such phenomenal Laws, however, as governing pheno- 
mena, is altogether unscientific ; such laws being nothing else than 
comprehensive expressions of aggregates of particular facts, and 
giving no rationale of them whatever. 

575. When, however, we not only look at bodies in motion, but 
try to resist their motion by an exertion of our own, or use a 
similar exertion in giving motion to a body at rest, we are led by 
our own sense of effort in making it to an entirely new conception, 
that oi Force ; and no advance in the Philosophy of Science has been 
greater, than that which has of late years extended the notion of 
Force, from the agency which produces or resists the Motion of masses, 
to the agencies which are concerned in producing the molecular 
changes which we refer to Heat, Light, Electricity, Magnetism, &c. 
The Man of Science of the present day is thus enabled t(> attach 
a distinct idea to that efficient causation, which Logicians have con- 
tinually denied, but which the Common Sense of Mankind has 
universally recognized. — When the Cause of any event is spoken 
of, in common parlance, we certainly attach to the term the idea of 
•power, at the same time that we include the notion of the conditions 
Qiider which that power operates ; and this view of the case can be 
si) own to be scientifically correct. For though the Logician may 
define the "cause "of any event to be " the antecedent, or the con« 
" currence of antecedents, on which it is invariably and unconditioa 



694 Of Mind and Will in Nature, 

ally consequent" (Mill, Op. dt), it is uniformly found, when thii 
assemblage of antecedents is analyzed, that they may be resolved 
into two categories, which may be distinguished as the dynamical 
and the material ; the former supplying a force or power to which 
the change must be attributed, whilst the latter afford the condi- 
tions under which that power is exerted. 

Thus in a Steam-Engine, we see the dynamical agency of Heat made 
io produce Mechanical power, by the mode in which it is applied — 
first, to impart a mutual repulsion to the particles of water, — and then, 
by m.eans of that mutual repulsion, to give motion to the various solid 
parts of which the machine is composed. And thus, if asked what is 
the cause of the movement of the Steam-Engine, we distinguish in our 
reply between the dynamical condition supplied by the Heat, and the 
assemblage of material conditions afforded by the collocation of the 
boiler, cylinder, piston, valves, &c. — So, again, if we are asked what is 
the cause of the movement of a Spinning-mule, we refer it to its con- 
nection by bands or wheels with some shaft, which itself derives its 
power to move from a Steam-engine or a Water-wheel ; these material 
collocations here again serving to supply the conditions under which 
the Force (which, in each case, is ultimately Heat) becomes opera- 
tive. — ^In like manner, if we inquire into the cause of the germination 
of a Seed, which has been brought to the surface of the earth, after 
remaining dormant, through having been buried deep beneath the soil, 
for (it ma}^ be) thousands of years, we are told that the phenomenon 
depends upon warmth, moisture, and oxygen : but out of these we 
single Heat as the dynamical condition ; whilst the oxygen and the 
water, with the organized structure of the seed itself, and the organic 
compounds which are stored up in its substance, constitute the material 
conditions. 

The Material conditions, in fact, merely furnish the fuel and the 
mechanism; it is the Force or Power that does the work. 

576. The strictest Scientific inquiry, then, must recognize 
Dynamical agency as fundamentally distinct from Material con- 
ditions ; and by this recognition we bring our Scientific concep- 
tion into harmony with the universal Consciousness of Mankind, 
which, as Sir John Herschel lias truly said, is as completely in 



L aws of Nature, 6 9 ; 



accord in regard to the existence of a real and intimate connection 
between Cause and Effect, as it is in regard to the existence of an 
External World. Now as it is universally admitted that our 
notion of that External World would be very incomplete, if our 
Visual perceptions were not supplemented by our Tactile, ao our 
interpretation of the phenomena of the Universe would be very 
inadequate^ if we did not mentally co-ordinate the idea of Force 
with that of Motion ; and it has been by such co-ordination that 
all those higher conceptions of the Order of Nature have been 
arrived at, which it is the greatest glory of Science to have 
attained, and which are the chief sources of Man's power. 

577. The grandest and most comprehensive of these, the Law of 
Gravitation, is an expression of the fact that everywhere and 
under all circumstances, two masses of matter attract one another 
in certain definite ratios ; and the term " attract " implies that they 
are drawn together by a force, similar to that which directly 
impresses itself upon our consciousness by the sen&e of effort we 
experience when we lift a pound-weight from the ground, and 
which furnishes the unit by which the weights of the Earth, the 
Sun, and the other bodies of the Solar System are estimated. From 
this dynamical assumption, combined with those other assumptions 
that are embodied in the Newtonian " Laws of Motion," not only 
have all the observed Uniformities both of Celestial and Terrestrial 
Motion (including those embodied in Kepler's Laws) been derived 
deductively, but predictions have been drawn in advance of obser- 
vation, of which the verification has never yet been wanting. And 
thus a Law which expresses the invariable conditions (so far as 
known to us) of the action of a Force of whose existence we are 
directly cognizant, impresses our minds with an assurance of its 
universality and its constancy, which no mere generalized expression 
of '* co-existences and sequences " could carry with it. 

578. In like manner, the Undulatory Theory of Sound, Light, 
Heat, and Actinism, and the Doctrine of Electric and Magnetic 



696 Of Mind and Will in N alter e. 

Polarity, are dynamical conceptions, whose gradual approximation 
in completeness and simplicit}'^ to the Law of Gravitation, consti' 
tutes the strongest assurance of their truth. Another hypothesis 
recently propounded, that of Molecular Motion, is regarded by 
Bome of our most advanced Physicists as likely to bring under one 
acd the same dynamical expression the Newtonian Law o{ 
Universal Gravitation, the Laws of Diffusion of Liquids and Gases, 
and many other subordinate Laws of which no rationale has yet 
been given. And the intimate relations which have been proved 
to exist between Chemical Affinity, on the one hand, and Heat, 
Electricity, and even Mechanical Force, on the other, leave it 
scarcely open to question that the Laws of Chemical Combination, 
which are at present only in their 'phenomenal stage, will ere long 
be brought within a definite dynamical expression. This is also 
the tendency of modern Physiological inquiry ; which, abandoning 
the old doctrine of a " Vital Principle " as a mere refuge for ignor- 
ance, fixes its attention on the dynamical conception of a Vital 
Force, differing in its manifestations from Heat, Electricity, 
Mechanical Force, &c., as the several manifestations of those 
Forces differ from each other; but definitely " correlated " with 
them, as they are correlated to each other. It has been one 
object of this Treatise to show that the like " correlation " exists 
between Nerve-force (one of the modes of Vital Force) and Mind- 
force ; and that the latter is thus mediately brought into relation 
with the Physical Forces of Nature. 

579. The culminating point of Man's Intellectual interpretation 
of Nature, may be said to be his recognition of the Unity of the 
Power, of which her phenomena are the diversified manifestations. 
Towards this point all Scientific inquiry now tends. For the 
Convertibility of the Physical Forces, the Correlation of these with 
the Vital, and the intimacy of that nexus between Mental and 
Bodily activity, which, explain it as we may, cannot be denied, 
all lead upward towards one and the same conclusion, — the 



Unity of Causative Power. 697 

Bource of all Power in Mind ; and that philosophical concln- 
Bion is the apex of a 2)yramid, which has its foundation in 
the primitive instincts of Humanity. By our own remote 
progenitors, as by the untutored savage of the present day, 
every change in which Human agency was not apparent, was 
refeired to a particular Animating Intelligence.'^ And thua 
they attributed not only the movements of the Heavenly bodies, 
but all the phenomena of Nature, each to its own Deity. These 
deities were invested with more than human power ; but they 
were also supposed capable of human passions, and subject to 
human capriciousness. As the Uniformities of Nature came to 
be more distinctly recognized, some of these deities were invested 
with a dominant control, while others were supposed to be their 
subordinate ministers. A serene majesty was attributed to the 
greater Gods who sit above the clouds ; whilst their inferiors 
might "come down to earth in the likeness of men." Wiih 
the growth of the Scientific study of Nature, the conception of 
its harmony and unity gained ever-increasing strength. Among 
the most enlightened of the Greek and Roman philosophnrs, we 
find a distinct recognition of the idea of the Unity of the 
directing Mind from which the Order of Nature proceeds ; for 
they obviously believed that, as our modern poet has expressed it, — > 

** All are but parts of one stupendous whole, 
"Whose body Nature is, and God the Soul." 

And thus, whilst the deep-seated instincts of Humanity, and the 
profoundest researches of Philosophy, alike point to Mind as the 
one and only source of Power, it is the high prerogative of Science 
to demonstrate the unity of the Power which is operating through 
the limitless extent and variety of the Universe, and to trace its 
continuity through the vast series of ages that have been occupied 
m its evolution. 

■* See Tjlor's Primitive Culture (London, 1871), Chaps, xi. -xvii. 



698 Of Mind and Will in Nature, 

580. But if such be the legitimate tendency of Sclent ifio 
inquiry, the question arises why — especially in these days — so 
many of its votaries should place themselves in an attitude of 
direct antagonism to Religion. The answer to this question seems 
threefold ; and each point needs a separate consideration. 

581. Iq the- jirst place, there has been, for several centuries 
past, a constant endeavour on the part of the upholders of 
Theological creeds and Ecclesiastical systems, either to repress 
Scientific inquiry altogether, or to limit its range. While 
accepting, with the rest of the world, those results of Scientific 
labour which contribute to their own comfort or enjoyment, — 
making no objection to Science, so long as it confines itself to 
giving them Steam-engines and Railroads, Gas-lighting and 
Electric Telegraphs, — such Theologians maintain that the minds 
of men who devote the best powers of their lives to the search for 
the Truth as it is in Nature, are to be " cribb'd, cabin'd, and con- 
fined " by narrow interpretations of the Bible ; and now think tc 
put down the great Scientific hypothesis which is engaging much 
of the best thought of our time, by citing the text, " God made 
man in His own image," just as, three centuries ago, they declared 
the Copernican system to be a pernicious error, because Joshua 
commanded the Sun and Moon to stand still, and even yet 
denounce Geologists as sceptics or even infidels, because they 
refuse to accept as revealed truth that God made heaven and 
earth in six days, and rested the seventh day. — It is not strange, 
then, that Men of Science should not only rebel against such 
self-constituted domination, but should repudiate the whole system 
of Belief of which it is the expression. For all History sliows that 
nothing drives men to the ext.-eme of license, so surely as tyrannical 
restriction. The ju&te milieu can only be found by those who are 
free to seek for it. 

582. In the second place, there is in what claims to be the 
" orthodox " systems of Theology, so much that runs counter to 



Antagonism of Theology to Science, 699 

the strongest and best instincts of Humanity, that those who have 
been led by Scientific study to build up their " fabric of thought " 
on the basis of their own Intellectual and Moral Intuitions, find it 
impossible to fit into this (§ 321) a set of doctrines which are 
altogether conformable to it. They cannot reconcile, for example, 
the everlasting damnation of all such as are unable to accept a 
body of unintelligible Dogma, with any conception they can form 
either of a Righteous Creator or of a Loving Father. Nor can 
they conceive that either the performance of the Baptismal rite, or 
the Atoning sacrifice of a Divinity, can be the condition on which 
depends the rescue of an innocent child fi'om eternal torment. 
Nor, again, can they regard as acceptaole worship of a Bf-neficenl; 
God, the utterance of imprecations conceived in a spirit of hatred 
and vengeance worthy only of the votaries of a Moloch, and alto- 
gether inconsistent with those later teachings of Christianity, 
which have revealed to us the highest and holiest elements of our 
own nature, elements which most distinctly bear the impress of 
the Divine, — So long as this is the haven to which " orthodox " 
Theology invites Men of Science, the great mass of them will 
most assuredly avoid it altogether ; and, unless they can find an 
anchorage elsewhere, will drift away into either vague wi^belief 
or absolute c^wbelief. 

583. While Theologlical Systems are thus answerable for two 
sources of Scientific antagonism to Heligion, a third arises out of 
the tendencies of Scientific research itself. For the more constant 
and invariable the great Agencies of Nature are found to be, and the 
more what at first seemed exceptional phenomena are brought 
within the domain of Law, — the more, on a superficial view, does 
it appear as if the Order of Nature were simply mechanical, going 
on 0/ iUelf, as it has done through all the past, and will continue 
to do through the future. But a deeper scrutiny has shown us 
that the Man of Science cannot dispense with the notion of a 
Power always working throughout the Mechanism of the Universe; 



700 - Of Mind a7id Will in Nature, 

and that, on Scientific grounds alone, this Power may be regarded 
as the expression of Mind. And anything else than unvarying 
Uniformity in the mode of operation of that Mind, would be an 
indication of its defect rather than of its perfection. For if all the 
agencies of Nature are the unconscious ministers of an All-wise 
Er.d All-powerful Ruler, they will work-out His bidding like the dis- 
ci pUned members of a large and well-ordered household, in which 
everyone knows his work and does it. Surely it would be strange 
if any who should watch these servants in the performance of 
their several duties, — should study the successions of every hour, 
should find each doing at a certain prefixed time and place exactly 
that which proves most suitable to the occasion, and should 
thus finally arrive at a conception of the harmony and complete- 
ness of the whole scheme of domestic economy, — were to be led by 
this very harmony and completeness to regard that as a mere 
mechanical routine, which is really the silent invisible action of 
the directing Will, and were to see the operation of that Will only 
in such depai lures from the system as may be required to meet 
contingencies for which no human foresight can provide.* 

584. Tarning now to the other side of the inquiry, we have to 
consider briefly what is the real basis of Religion, what is its essen- 
tial nature, and whether there is anything necessarily inconsistent 
in its teachings with the results of Scientific inquiry. — The only 
secure basis for Religion consists in Man's own religious conscioiis- 
ness ; since it is as impossible that any Revelation should make a 
man religious, whose inner nature does not respond to its teach- 
ings, as that any instruction should make a man a Musician, who 
has not got a " musical ear." This Religious Consciousness maybe 
considered to arise, in the first place, from that capacity for the 
icleal which seems to be the distinctive attribute of Man (§97) ; whilst 
it is progressively developed, refined, and elevated, in accordance 

• See Dr. Chalmers's Sermon on The Constancy of Nature and the Faithfulneu 
$j' Ood ia Vol. viL of his collected Workh. 



Pantheism and Anthropomorphism, 701 

xvith the general expansion of his Intellect, the exaltation of his 
Moral Sense, and the purification of his Aspirations, so as to shape 
out for itself, more and more distinctly, a Divine Ideal (§ 213). And 
in proportion as every one determinately endeavours to bring hia 
own character and conduct into accordance with that ideal (§ 339), 
is he (in the truest sense of the term) a religious man. 

585. Now whilst the conception which each individual forms of 
the Divine Nature will depend in great degree upon his own habits of 
thought, there are two extremes towards one or other of which most 
of the current notions on this subject may be said to tend, and 
between which they have oscillated in all periods of the history 
of Monotheism. These are Pantheism and Anthropomor2:>hism. 
— Towards the Pantheistic aspect of Deity, we are especially led 
by the philosophic contemplation of His agency in external 
Nature ; for in proportion as we fix our attention exclusively upon 
the "laws" which express the orderly sequence of its phenomena, 
and upon the " forces " whose agency we recognize as their 
efficient causes, do we come to think of the Divine Being as the 
mere Jlrst principle of the Universe, — as an all-comprehensive 
"law'* to which all other laws are subordinate, as that most 
general "cause" of which all the Physical forces are but mani- 
festations. This conception embodies a great truth, and a 
fundamental error. Its truth is the recognition of the universal 
and all-controlling agency of the Deity, and of His presence in 
Creation rather than on the outside of it. Its error lies in the 
a^^sence of any distinct recognition of that conscious volitional agency, 
which is the essential attribute of Personality ; fi)r without thig 
there can be no Moral Government, and Man's worthiest aspiration? 
aftor the Divine Ideal would have no real object. — The Anthropo- 
niorphic conception of Deity, on the other hand, arises from tne 
too exclusive contemplation of our own nature as the type of 
tho Divine : and although, in the highest form in which it may 
be held, it represents the Deity as a Being in whom all Man's 



702 Of Mind and Will in Nature. 

noblest attributes are expanded to Infinity, yet it is practically 
limited and degraded by the impossibility of f^dly realizing such 
an existence to our minds ; the failings and imperfections in- 
cident to our Human nature being attributed to the Divine? 
ill proportion as the standard of Intellectual and Moral de- 
velopment attained by each individual limits his idea of possible 
excellence. Even the lowest form of any such conception, however, 
embodies (like the Pantheistic) a great truth, though mingled with 
a large amount of error. It represents the Deity as a person; 
that is, as possessed of that Intelligent Volition, which we 
recognize in ourselves as the source of the power we determinately 
exert, through our bodily organism, upon the world around ; and 
it invests Him also with those Moral attributes, which place Him in 
sympathetic relation with His sentient creatures. But this con- 
ception is erroneous, in so far as it represents the Divine Nature 
as restrained in its operations by any of those limitations wliich 
are inherent in the very constitution of Man ; and, in particular, 
because it leads those who accept it, to think of the Creator as 
" a remote and retired mechanician, inspecting from without the 
engine of creation to see how it performs," and as either leaving it 
entirely to itself when once it has been brought into full activity, 
or as only interfering at intervals to change the mode of its 
operation. 

586. Now the Truths which these views separately contain, are in 
perfect harmony with each other ; and the very act of bringing 
them into combination effects the elimination of the errors with 
which they were previously associated. For the idea of the 
universal and all-controlling agency of the Deity, and of His 
immediate presence throughout Creation, is not found to be in the 
least degree inconsistent with the idea of His personality ; when 
that idea is freed from the limitations which cling to it in the 
minds of those who have not expanded their Anthropomorphic 
conception by the Scientific contemplation of Nature. And the 



t 



Harmony of Science and Religion. 703 

Man of S(;ier]ce who studies not only the Mechanism of Nature, 
but the Forces which give Life and Motion to that Mechanism, 
end who fixes his thought on that conception oi force as an ex- 
pression of will, which we derive from our own experience of its 
produ^ition, is thus led to recognize the universal and constantly 
sustaining agency of the Deity in every phenomenon of the 
Universe; and to feel that in the Material Creation itself, he 
has the same distinct evidence of His personal existence and 
ceaseless activ'ty, as he has of the agency of Intelligent Mind in 
the creations of Artistic Genius, or in the elaborate products of 
Mechanical skill, or in those written records of Thought and 
Feeling which arouse oui own Psychical nature into kindred 
activity. 

587. That any antagonism should be supposed to exist between 
those " Laws " which express the Uniformities of Nature dis- 
covered by Science, and the Will of the Author of Nature aa 
manifested m those uniformities, — so as for the acceptance of the 
former to exclude the notion of the latter, — can only arise either 
from an unworthy conception of the Deity as an arbitrary and 
capricious ruler, or from an unphilosophical conception of the real 
meaning of Science as the intellectual interpretation of Nature. 
It is on the highest, not on the lowest, form of Human Will, that we 
should base our ideas of the Divine; — upon such a Will as sets 
before it a great and good object, steadily perseveres in the 
course that leads towards its accomplishment, shapes its mode 
^f operation to the best of its limited foreknowledge, is not dis- 
couraged by temporary failures, and finally succeeds because 
iaa means employed were on the whole adapted to brmg about the 
lesult Now, if the Foreknowledge be infinite, there will be no 
iuUires, because all fruitless efforts will be prevented by the 
[(revision of the inadequacy of the means. And if the Power 
DO infinite, there will be no limitation of choice, except as to 
the means wliich will hest conduce to the end in view. 
49 



704 Of Mind and Will in Nature. 

588. Hence there is a perfect conformity between the Scientific 
idea of " Law," as exj ressive of Uniformity of action, and the 
Theological idea of *'Will" exciting itself with a fixed purpoie 
according to a predetermined plan ; and of the existence of such a 
plan, the Revelations of Science furnish Theology with its best 
svidence. For the Immutability of the Divine Nature is nowh(jre 
more clearly manifested, than in that continuance of the same mode of 
actiony — not merely through the limited period of Human experience, 
but, as we have now strong reason to believe (on Scientific 
grounds alone), from the very commencement of the present system 
of the Universe, — which enables us to discern somewhat of the Plan 
on which the Creator has acted, and is still acting. If His every 
action were immediately prompted by present contingencies, instead 
of being the result of predetermination based on perfect knowledge 
of the future, there could be no Law. If that knowledge were, like 
Man's, imperfect, though we might trace a general method when 
the arrangements were viewed in their totality, the details would 
liave much of that unsteadiness and occasional want of consistency, 
which we perceive in the actions of even the best-regulated Human 
mind. The laws would be made to bend to the necessities of the 
time ; and new interpositions would be continually necessary, to 
correct the errors that would occasionally arise in the working of 
the machine. So far, however, is this from being the case in the 
Divine operations, that, in the only department of Science (Astro- 
nomy) in which the Philosopher has been able, from the simplicity 
of the phenomena, to attain to anything like a complete generaliza- 
tion of them, he has every reason to believe that the same 
Laws have been in operation from the beginning, or, in other 
wc»ris, that the work of Creation was commenced up n a plan 
%?. perfect, that no subsequent change in this plan has been 
rL4uired. 

589. The Scientific sense of the term "Law," therefore, — con- 
sidered simply as Man's expression of Uniformity of Sequence 



Uniformity of Sequence in Naticre. 705 

rithin the range of his limited experience, — so far from beir^g in 
antagonism with the motion of Will, is only in antagonism with 
that idea of inconstancy in its mode of exercise, which belongs to 
a Theology now disowned by the best thinkers of our time. Not 
even Mr. Herbert Spencer could express himself on the constancy 
of Nature (§ 574) more explicitly than did Dr. Chalmers more tkau 
forty years ago : — 

*' It is no longer doubted by men of science, that every remaini-ig 
semblance of irregularity in the Universe is due, not to the fickleness 
of Nature, bixt to the ignorance of Man, — that her most hidden 
movements are conducted with a uniformity as rigorous as Fate, — 
that even the fitful agitations of the weather have their law and their 
principle, — that the intensity of every breeze, and the number of 
drops in every shower, and the formation of every cloud, and all the 
recurring alternations of storm and sunshine, and the endless shiftings 
of temperature, and those tremulous vibrations of the air which our 
instruments have enabled us to discover, but have not enabled us to 
explain, — that still, they follow each other by a method of succes- 
sion, which, though greatly more intricate, is yet as absolute in 
itself as the order of the seasons, or the mathematical courses of 
astronomy. This is the impression of every philosophical mind 
with regard to Nature ; and it is strengthened by each new accession 
that is made to Science. The more we are acquainted with her, the 
more are we led to recognise her constancy, and to view her as a mighty 
though complicated machine, all whose results are sure, and all 
whose workings are invariable." — {^Chalmers's Works, vol. vii., p. 204.) 

This constancy, on which every man counts in the plans and 
intentions he forms for his future action, is, to him who has found 
the reconcilement between Science and Religion, nothing else than 
an abiding testimony to the Infinity of the Divine Perfections. 

590. There seems to be another source, however, for the supposed 
antagonism between the notion of Law and that of Will, as the 
governing and sustaining power of the Universe ; namely, the idea 
that when God is said to " govern by law," it is implied that some 
agency exists between Himself and Nature. This idea seems to 



^o6 Of Mind and Will in Nature, 

have its origin in the imperfect analogy supplied by Human 
legislation, — an analogy so misleading that it might be wished 
that the term "law" could be altogether banished from Science, 
if it were not that, when carefully examined, any Law of Man's 
devising is found to be nothing else than an expression of certain 
yredetervfiintd uniformities of action of the Governing Power. 
Wliether that Power be wielded by a single individual who rules 
by his personal supremacy, or be vested in him as the impersona- 
tion of the Will of the community, or be directly exerted by 
the community itself, the action of the Law upon those who are 
subject to it, is simply the constant, though silent, operation of 
such Power ; for the law loses all its coercive efficacy, the moment 
that the power which enforces it is withdrawn by the overthrow 
or the paralysis of the Government which exercised it. Now if 
the Law, as first laid down by a Human legislator, prove inade- 
quate, though backed by adequate Power, to produce the desired 
effect, he modifies or changes it; such alteration being required 
simply on account of his limited foreknowledge. But sup- 
posing his Foreknowledge to be Infinite, all the results of any 
exertion of his Will that he might embody in a Law, would 
be so completely foreseen in the first instance, that (supposing 
bim possessed also of adequate Power) he could adapt his Law 
to the purpose it is to serve, with such perfection as to render 
any subsequent alteration unnecessary. — In regard to the Physical 
Universe, then, it might be better to substitute for the phrase 
"Government hy laws," "Government according to laws;" — 
meaning thereby, the direct exertion of the Divine Will, or 
operation of the First Cause, in the Forces of Nature, according 
to certain constant Uniformities, which are simply unchangeable, 
because — having been originally the expressions of Infinite Wisdom 
i— any change would be for the worse. 

591. Looking at the Deity, finally, in His relation to his Human 
off"8pring, we draw a hke conclusion from the best results of our owd 



Paternal Relation of God to Man, 707 

limited experience. For if aloving Father had foreknowledge enough 
to form at the outset all his future plans for the education of his 
children, and wisdom enough to adapt these plans in the best possible 
manner to their respective characters as progressively developed, 
and to all the conditions in 'which they may hereafter find tbem- 
Beives, and power enough to carry these plans into operation, so that 
the course of events would not require the alteration of one tittle in 
Iheh' fidfilment, — surely this would be a far more peifect mani- 
festation of a Paternal character, than the continual change in hia 
schemes which the Human parent is usually obliged to make, in 
order to adapt them to the purpose he has in view. The per- 
petual recurrence of obvious design, in the latter case, may be, to an 
ordinary bystander, more suggestive of the intentions of the 
parent ; but the more profound observer will take another view, 
and will have reason to doubt, from the necessity of the perpetual 
change, the absolute wisdom of the controlling power. The notion 
of constancy and invaiiabihty in the Creator's plan, therefore, — by 
referring all those provisions for Man's benefit which He has placed 
before him, either in possession or in prospect, to the period when 
this present system of things had a beginning, — simply antedates the 
exercise of His discerning Love ; and so far from our idea of its 
nature losing any of its force on this account, it ought to 
be strengthened and enlarged, in precisely the same ratio as our 
ideas of His Power and Wisdom are extended by the elevation 
of the point from which we view His operations, and the 
consequent range of the survey we take. 

592. Thus, then, if Theologians will once bring themselves to look 
upon Nature, or the Material Universe, as the embodiment c f tlie 
Divine Thought, and at the Scientific study of Nature as the 
endeavour to discover and apprehend that Thought (to have 
"thought the thoughts of God" was the privilege most liighly 
esteemed by Kepler), they will see that it is their duty, instead 
of holding themselves altogether aloof from the pui'suit of Science^ 



7o8 Of Mind and Will in Nature. 

or stopping short in the search for Scientific Truth wherever i1 
points towards a result that seems in discordance with theii 
I^.reformed conceptions, to apply themselves honestly to the 
Btndy of it, as a Revelation of the Mind and Will of the Deity, 
which is certainly not less authoritative than that which lie 
has made to us through the recorded thoughts of religiously- 
inspired Men, and which is fitted, in many cases, to afford its 
true interpretation. And they cannot more powerfully attract 
the Scientific student to Religion, th ?n by taking up his highest 
and grandest Thought, and placing it in that Religious light 
which imparts to it a yet greater glory. They will then perceive 
that although, if God be outside the Physical Universe, those 
extended ideas of its vastness which modern Scienco opens to 
us, remove Him further and further from us, yet, if he be 
embodied in it, every such extension enlarges our notion of 
His being. As Mr. Martmeau has nobly said: — "What, indeed, 
have we found by moving out along all radii into the Infinite 1 
That the whole is woven together in one sublime tissue 
of intellectual relations, geometric and physical, — the realized 
original, of which all our Science is but the partial copy. That 
Science is the crowning product and supreme expression of Human 

reason Unless, therefore, it takes more mental faculty to 

construe a Universe than to cause it, to read the Book of Nature 
than to write it, we must more than ever look upon its sublime 
face as the living appeal of Thought to Thought." But the Theo- 
logian cannot rise to the height of this conception, unless he is 
ready to abandon the worship of every idol that is *' graven by 
Rrt aud man's device ;"— to accept as a fellow-worker with himself 
every truth-seeker who uses the understanding given him by " tb^ 
inspiration of the Almighty '* in tracing out the Divine Order of 
the Universe ; — and to admit into Christian communion every one 
who desires to be accounted a disciple of Christ, and humbly 
endeavours to follow in the steps of his Divine Master (§ 339). 



APPEXDIX. 



The whole of the foregoing Treatise waa in type, when the Writor 
became acquainted with the remarkable results of the Experimental 
Researches which have been recently prosecuted by Dr. Ferrier into 
the Functions of different parts of the Brain.* Of these results, some 
afford full confirmation of certain general doctrines set forth in the 
preceding pages, giving to those doctrines an unexpected definiteness 
and extension ; others are clear additions to our previous knowledge, 
which are not only important in themselves, but valuable as affording 
a clue to further inquiry; whilst of others, again, the precise meaning 
seems at present obscure. As none of them, however, appear to the 
"Writer in any way opposed to his previous teachings, he has thought 
it preferable, in the present stage of the inquiry, to leave these as they 
stand; and to give a separate account of Dr. Ferrier's results, so far 
as they have yet been made public, with the conclusions which they 
at present seem to himself to justify. 

Dr. Ferrier's researches were made by the localized application of 
an Electric current to different parts of the Cortical substance of the 
Cerebrum, and to other ganglionic centres forming part of the Brain : 
the animal having been previously rendered insensible by Chlorofonn, 
80 that the movements excited by this stimulation may be regarded aa 
the direct products of the physical changes it induced. 

The method of applying Electricity found most effective, was that 
which is known as faradization; namely, the use of the interrupted 
cuiTent of an induction-coil, which could be increased or diminished at 
pleasure to meet the requirements of the case. As a rule, the current 
was not stronger than could be borne without great discomfort on the 

* Medical Heporls of the WestEiding Lunatic Af^'liuii, \o\. lit, 1873. 



710 Appendix. — Dr. Ferrier on the Brain. 

tip of the tongue ; but very considerable variations in its tension were 
found necessary, in order to produce the same effects in different 
animals, and at different times in the same animal. These variations 
were obviously related in part to the condition of the Blood- circula- 
tion : the excitability of the Nerve-centres being lowered alike by the 
effect of the " shock " of the severe operation necessary to expose the 
biain to the requisite extent, which enfeebles the action of the heart 
(§ 41) ; by the inevitable loss of Blood, which both directly di- 
minishes the supply, and reduces the heart's action ; and also by the 
depressing influence of the continued administration of chloroform upon 
the heart's action. It thus came about, that after great haemorrhage, 
and when the brain no longer showed the pulsation which marks the 
influx of successive waves of blood, the strongest faradization failed 
to stimulate. But, again, the excitability of the nerve-centres was 
further depressed by the direct influence of the chloroform ; though 
this seems to be much less strongly exerted upon the Motor, than it 
is upon the Sensorial centres. And, lastly, the excitability was pro- 
gressively reduced by repeated stimulation ; so that at last no move- 
ment could be called forth, though the current was much increased in 
strength. Yet even then, after an intermission of the experiments, 
during which the use of the chloroform was suspended, and the powers 
of the animal were refreshed by food and by the respiration of pure 
air, the excitability was found to have been restored. This is obviously 
in full accordance with the principle stated in (§§ 404-2) ; for while the 
nutritive components of the blood supply the materials whereby the 
nerve-substance generates and repairs itself, and its "potential energy " 
accumulates, it is by the combination of the oxygen of the blood with 
those materials, that the potential is converted into actual energy 
(§ 308). 

The faradization of the cortical substance of the Cerebrum imme- 
diately produces an intense hypercemia; that is, a greatly- increase 1 
flow of blood through its closely- compacted plexus of minute vessels. 
This is made apparent in two ways ; first, in the increase in the size < if 
the vessels, which is obvious to the eye; and second, in the profutie 
flow of venous blood that takes place from the great sinuses, which, iu 
the quiescent state of the brain, had ceased to bleed. Several applica- 
tions of the electrodes to the cortical substance of the Cerebrum in 
rabbits, convert it into the likeness of that morbid growth, mainly 
consisting of blood-vessels and connective tissue, which is known aa 
*' fungus hsematodes." 

The first set of Dr. Terrier's experiments had reference to the patho- 
logy of Epilepsy ; and were made by applyirg the two electrodes +« 



I 



Relation of Nerve- Force to Blood-supply. 7 1 1 

poinle of the Cerebral surface at some distance from each other. This 
application excited either partial or general convulsion; the most 
severe fits being induced when the electrodes were applied at the 
greatest distance. 

** In all cases," says Dr. Ferrier, "whether the fits were partial or more general, 
the immediate antecedent was an excited hypertemic condition of the cortical 
matter cf the hemispheres. The irritation was entirely confined to the surface 
, of the hemispheres ; the electrodes being simply applied, without causing 
mechanical or deep-seated lesion." And not only was there in every case a 
distinct interval between the application of the electrodes and the first 
convulsive movement ; but there was occasionally *' a distinct interval of 
time afler the withdrawal of the sthtiidation, before the condition of the grey 
matter had reached the pitch of tension requisite for an explosive discharge. 
This of itself is sufficient to show that the effects were not due to conducted 
ciirrents or direct stimulation of the motor nerves of the muscles, but to an 
abnormal excitability or irritability of parts, whose function, it might be inferred, 
was to initiate those changes which would result in normal contraction of the 
muscles atiected." — \0p. cit., p. 39.) 

Nothing, it must be obvious, could more strikingly illustrate the 
principle, that while the ordinary Circulation sufiBLces to keep up the 
nervous tension of the ganglionic centres to the point required for 
motorial discharge by automatic or voKtional "closure of the 
circuit," the higher state of tension induced by hyperemia is itself 
sufficient to produce spontaneous motorial discharges (§§ 308-311). 

It seems to the Writer that the above principles may be fairly ex - 
tended to all the cases in which local faradization produced special 
motor results ; for although the immediateness of these results in the 
state of normal excitability might seem to indicate they proceeded 
from direct stimulation of the ganglionic nerve-substance itself, yet 
when the excitability is depressed by exhaustion, a distinct interval 
is perceptible. And that the "expressive" movements excited by 
the localized faradization really depend (like the epileptic con- 
vulsion) upon the hypersemic state which it induces, seems to be 
farther indicated by their frequent persistence after the discon- 
tinuance of the stimulation ; — a dog, for example, continuing to 
hold up his head and wag his tail, or to utter cries as of pain (though 
completely stupefied by chloroform), after the withdrawal of the 
electrodes from the respective centres of these actions. For this could 
Bcarcely be the case, if the stimulus acted directly on the nerve-sub- 
stance ; whilst it is quite consistent with the fact that the hypersemic 
6tate does not immediately subside. And further, it is a consideration 
ofno small importance, that no motor effect is produced by the faradiza- 
tion of the fibres which make-up the medullary substance of the 
Cerebrum, which might be expected to respond to this stimulus if 



712 Appendix, — Dr, Ferrier on the Brain. 



it acted directly upon the elements of the nerve-tissue, as in the 
galvanization of an ordinary nerve. 

The general characteristic of the Movements called forth by the local 
stimulation of the cortical substance of the Cerebrum, is that they are 
such as involve the co-ordination of several distinct muscular actions ; 
and resemble those which, in an animal in possession of its senses, we 
should regard as expressive of Ideas and Emotions. 

Thus, in a Cat, the application of the electrodes at point 2 (Fig. 14) caused 
" elevation of the shoulder and adduction of the limb, exactly as when a cat 
strikes a ball with its paw ;" at point 4, " immediate corrugation of the left eye- 
brow, and drawing downwards and inwards of the left ear ; " at point 5, "the 



Fig. 14. 




Side View of Brain of Cat : — a, crucial sulcus dividing 
anterior convolutions ; b, fissure of Sylvius ; c, olfactory 
bulb. 

animal exhibits signs of pain, screams and kicks with both hind legs, especially 
the left, at the same time turning its head round and looking behind in an 
astonished manner ;" at point 6, " clutching movement of the left paw, with pro- 
trusion of the claws;" at point 13, "twitching backwards of the left ear, and 
rotation of the head to the left and slightly upwards, as if the animal were 
listening ;" at point 17, "restlessness, opening of the mouth, and long-continued 
cries as if of rage or pain ;" at point 18 (on the under side of the hemisphere, 
not shown in the figure), "the animal suddenly starts up, throws back its head, 
opens its eyes widely, lashes its tail, pants, screams and spits as if in furious 
rage ; " and at point 20, " sudden contraction of the muscles of the front of the 
chest and neck, and of the depressors of the lower jaw, with panting movement." — 
Similar results were so constantly obtained, with variations obviously depending 
upon the degree of excitability and the strength of the stimulus, that the localiza- 
tion of the centres of these and other actions was placed beyond doubt ; the 
movements of the paws being centralized in the region between points 1, 2, and 
6 ; those of the eyelids and face between 7 and 8 ; the lateral movements of the 
head and ear in the region of points 9 to 14 ; and the movements of the mouth, 
tongue, and jaws, with certain associated movements of the neck, being localized 
in the convolutions bordering on the fissure of Sylvius (b), which marks the divi- 
sion between the anterior and middle lobes of the Cerebrum, — the centre for 



Localized Functions of Cerebral Convolutions, 713 

opening the mouth being in front of the under part of the fissure, while that 
which acts in closure of the jaws is more in the fissure. 

A similar series of experiments on Dogs gave results that closely 
accorded with the foregoing ; allowance being made for the somewhat 
different disposition of the convolutions, in accordance with the dif- 
ferent habits of the animals, showing itself in the higher development 
of the centres for the paw in cats, and for the tail in dugs. 

Thus when the electrodes were applied at point 9 (Fig. 15), " the tail was moved 
from side to side, and ultimately became rigidly erect ;" ^"ithin the circle 10, the 
application " elicited only cries, as if of pain ;" at point 14 a continued applica- 
tion gave rise to the following remarkable series of actions : — "It began with 
wagging of the tail and spasmodic twitching of the left ear. After the cessation 

Fig. 15. 




B 

Side View of Brain op Dog : — a, crucial sulcus ; b, fissure of Sylvius ; 
c, olfactory bulb 

of the more violent spasms, the animal held up its head, opened its eyes wide with 
the most animated expression, and wagged its tail in a fa^vning manner. The 
change was so striking, that I and those about me at first thought that the animal 
had completely recovered from its stupor. But notwithstanding all attempts to call 
its attention by patting it and addressing it in soothing terms, it looked stead- 
fastly in the distance Tvith the same expression, and continued to wag its tail for 
a minute or two, after which it suddenly relapsed into its pre^dous state of narcotic 
stupor." The application of the electrodes to point 21 produced " drawing back 
of the head and opening of the mouth, with a feeble attempt at a cry or growl (the 
animal very much exhausted). Repeated applications of the electrodes to this 
point and its neighbourhood caused whining and growling noises," like those 
which a dog makes in its sleep, and which are supposed to indicate that it is 
dreaming. 

Similar experiments having been made upon Eabbits, the results 
were again as accordant as it would be fair to expect ; especially cou- 



714 Appendix. — Dr. Ferrier on the Brain. 




sidering the difficulty in exactly localizing the different centres, which 
arises from the absence of the landmarks afforded by the convolutions. 
It is curious that in this animal the centres 
of the mouth- movements seem to be the 
most highly developed; when these (2, 7, 
Pig. 16) are faradized, "there are munching 
movements of the upper lip, and grinding 
of the jaws, as if the animal were eating 
vigorously." 

Dr. Ferrier has since made a series of 
experiments on the Monkey; of which the 
details are as yet unpublished, but which 
seem to be yet more remarkable than the 
preceding, in the far greater variety of the 
movements called forth from different cen- 
tres, and their more distinctly expressive 
character. These results will also be of 
peculiar interest, on account of the close 
conformity which the simple arrangement 
of the convolutions in the Monkey bears 
to their more complex disposition in the 
Human Cerebrum (§ 106). They correspond 
with those of the previous experiments in this important particular — 
that those centres of movement which may be regarded as giving ex- 
pression to attributes that Man shares with the higher Mammalia, are 
all located in the anterior lobes and the anterior portion of the middle 
lobes, the part of Man's Cerebrum which corresponds with the entire 
Cerebrum of the lower Mammalia (§ 106). In the Cat and the Dog, 
which have the middle lobes fully developed, stimulation of their 
posterior portion produces no respondent movement. And not only is 
this the case in the Monkey also ; but the whole of the posterior lohe is 
similarly irresponsive, as is also thai front portion of the anterior lobes, 
which, in all the higher Mammalia, as in Man, is produced by that 
forward as well as lateral development, which markedly distinguishes 
it from the corresponding part of the Cerebrum of the Eabbit, What 
may be the special functions of these parts, we can scarcely do more 
than guess at ; but the negative fact just stated may be considered as a 
decided confirmation of the conclusion arrived at by the Writer 
twenty-seven years ago, on the basis of Comparative Anatomy and 
Embryology*, — that the posterior lobes of the Cerebrum are the 

* See his Review of " Noble on the Brain and its Physiology," in the ''British 
and Foreign Medical Review," for October, 1846. 



Upper surface of Brain 
OF Rabbit : — a. Cere- 
brum ; B, Cerebellum ; 
c. Olfactory bulb. 



Functions of Lower Ganglionic Centres. 715 

kastrum exits, wo^ (as maintained by Phrenologists) of those passions and 
propensities- which Man shares with the lower Animals, but of 
attributes peculiar to Man, which we fairly may suppose to consist 
in such Mental operations of a purely Intellectual character as do not* 
express themselves in bodily action. 

Before considering the further conclusions to be drawn from the 
results of Dr. Terrier's experiments on the Cerebrum, it will be well 
to take into account those which he obtained from the application of 
the like stimulation to other ganglionic centres forming part of the 
Brain. When either of the Corpora Striata (§ 89) was thus excited 
to activity, an immediate and rigid phurostho/onos, or bending of the 
body to one side, was excited in the opposite half of the body ; the 
head being made to approximate the tail, the muscles of the face and 
neck being thrown into rigid tonic spasm, and the fore and hind limbs 
fixed and rigidly flexed. Ajiparently every muscle or group of 
muscles represented in the convolutions, along with the lateral 
muscles of the body, were stimulated to contraction from the corpus 
striatum ; the predominance of the flexors over the extensors, however, 
being very marked. Similar excitation of the Thalami Optici, on the 
other hand, gave no motor result whatever; from which it maybe 
concluded that they have no direct connection with movement. That 
the irritation did not call forth cries or other signs of pain, might be 
supposed equally conclusive against the idea that these ganglionic 
centres are instrumentally connected with sensation ; but when it is 
borne in mind, not only that the animal was under the influence 
of chloroform, but that the connection of the irritated Thalamus with 
the Cerebral centres of the movements which express pain had been 
destroyed in order to expose this ganglion, the absence of any such 
expression seems adequately accounted for. — Experiments on the 
Corpora Quadrigemina (or Optic Ganglia) were chiefly made on 
Babbits, in which these centres are relatively very large and are easily 
exposed (§ 85). The application of the electrodes to the anterior 
tubercles immediately calls forth a violent opisthotonos, or backward 
flexure of the body ; so that, if the animal be not tied down, it executes 
a backward summersault which throws it ofi' the table. The jaws are 
always violently clenched, and the pupils are dilated. These results do 
not militate against the idea of the connection of these ganglionic centres 
with the sense of Vision, which seems to be well established by other 
evidences ; but they show that they are also motor centres, especially 
for the extensor muscles. Stimulation of the posterior tubercles 
occasioned noises of various kinds. 

Dr. Ferrier's experiments on the Certbellum have led him to tho 



7i6 Appendix. — D7\ Ferrier on the Brain. 



i^ig. 17. 



unexpected conclusion that it is the ganglionic centre of the motor 
nerves of the Eye ; every kind of movement of the eye-balls, — even 
rotation on their antero-posterior axes,— being capable of excitation 
by stimulating some particular portion of the organ. The localization 
of the centres of combined movements of the two eyeballs in particular 
lobules of the Cerebellum in the Eabbit was extremely curious. 

Thus, when the electrodes were applied to the median lobe at point 1 (Fig. 17), 
"the right eye moved outwards, and the left inwards, in a horizontal plane ;" 
at points 2 and 3, the "right eye moved inwards, and the left outwards, 
on the same horizontal plane." Thus it appears that the middle lobe regulates 
those horizontal movements of the eyes which are harmonious but not symme- 
trical ; and that the upper part of the median lobe, and its middle and 
lower parts, are in functional antagonism. When the electrodes were applied 
to point 4 on the left lateral lobe, "the right eye moved downwards and outwards, 

the left eye upwards and inwards ; " and when 
the corresponding point of the right lateral lobe 
was stimulated, " the right eye moved upwards 
and inwards, and the left eye downwards and 
outwards ; " while conjoint irritation of both 
lateral points neutralizes both effects. When 
the middle division of the left lateral lobe was 
irritated at point 5, a downward movement 
of the right eye, and an upward movement of 
the left eye, were combined with a rotation of 
each globe on its antero-posterior axis, the left 
in the direction of the hands of a clock, the right 
in the contrary direction. But when the irrita- 
tion was applied at point 6 to the lowest division 
of the left lateral lobe, the two eyes rotated on 
their antero-posterior axes in the same direc- 
tion, contrary to that of the hands of the clock, 
so that their vertical meridians retained their 
parallelism. — This last action is what takes place 
automatically when we fix our gaze at any object, 
and incline our head to the right side ; the 
rotation of the eyeballs in the opposite direction 
serving to keep the image of the object on the 
same spot of the retina, just as do the auto- 
matic movements of the eyeballs in the vertical 
or horizontal plane, when the head is moved 
upwards and downwards, or from side to side 
(§ 21). 




Upper surfack op Brain 
OP Rabbit. 



These results throw great light upon the obscurity which previously 
enveloped the precise function of the Cerebellum. That it was in 
some way concerned in the regulation and co-ordination of the 
Muscular movements, especially those concerned in the maintenance 
of the equilibrium of the body, has long been a general opinion among 
Physiologists, based in part on the results of experiments, and in part 



Functions of Cerebelhcm. — Genei^al Results. 7 1 7 

npon Pathological observation ; the doctrine of the Phrenologists, who 
regarded it as the organ of the generative instinct, having been long 
abandoned as untenable. But of the manner in which this power was 
exerted, nothing could be said to be precisely known. Now there can 
be no question as to the intimate relation between the guiding sensa- 
tions we derive from Vision, and the co-ordination of our ordinary 
movements of Locomotion (§ 192). In the affection termed " nystag- 
mus," which consists in a restless motion of the eye-balls from side to 
side, there is a difficulty in maintaimng the equilibrium ; and in the 
state called "locomotor ataxy," in which disease of the posterior 
columns cuts off the Cerebellum from its normal relation with the 
Spinal cord, it is impossible for the patient to maintain his equilibrium 
with his eyes shut (§ 80). So in the giddiness which most persons 
experience when they have rapidly turned round-and-round several 
times, it can scarcely be doubted that part at least of the result is 
occasioned by confusion of those visible perceptions, which would 
come through the oculo-motorial centres. — That this regulation of 
the movements of the Eyes, and the harmonization with them of the 
general movements of the body, constitute the entire function of the 
Cerebellum, it would be premature yet to assert; but Dr. Ferrier's 
experiments seem clearly to establish the first of these, and strongly 
to indicate the second, as essential parts of its action. 

We now return to the inquiry as to the import of the experimental 
results previously detailed, in regard to the localization of Cerebral 
action in the production of Movement, and its relation to Mental 
states. 

In the jirst place, they unmistakably prove the correctness of the 
doctrine, that the Cerebrum, like the nerve-centres on which it is 
superposed, has a reflex action of its own ; which manifests itself in the 
production of co-ordinated movements, such as, in the normal condi- 
tion of the animal, would be the expressions of Ideas and Emotions 
called forth by Sensations. The Cortical ganglion is ordinarily excited 
to activity by the nerve-force transmitted upwards along the ascending 
fibres from the Sensorium ; this calls forth respondent physical 
changes in its substance, which changes excite the states of con- 
Bciousuess that we designate as Ideas and Emotions ; and respondent 
Movements are involuntarily called forth, which we regard aa 
expressions of those states. The same movements are called forth 
(as in other instances) by stimulation applied to their motor centres ; 
which are now proved to be definitely localized in the Cerebral con- 
volutions. 



71 8 Appendix. — Dr. Ferrier on the Brain, 

But, secondly, it seems equally clear that these movements are 
called forth, not by the Mental states themselves, but by the Cerebral 
changes which are their physical antecedents. For we can scarcely 
believe that Ideas and Emotions can be called up by faradization of 
the cortical substance, in animals completely stupefied by chloroform. 
And if we attribute any of those "expressive" actions which are 
called forth by such localized stimulation, to the states of conscious- 
ness they would ordinarily represent,* we cannot refuse the like 
character to the Epileptic convulsion called forth by the more general 
stimulation ; a supposition at once disproved by the fact, that in the 
typical forms of Epilepsy, convulsive movements, such as have now 
been traced to "discharging lesions" of the Cerebrum, t take place 
without any consciousness whatever. Viewed in this aspect. Dr. 
Ferrier's results obvioasly afford additional support to the doctrine of 
"Unconscious Cerebration;" by showing that important Cerebral 
modifications of which only the results make themselves known, may 
take place outside the " sphere of consciousness" (§§ 416-418). 

In the third place, we seem able to draw from these experimental 
results a more definite rationale than we previouslj' possessed, as to the 
automatic performance in Man, of movements which originally pro- 
ceeded from intentional direction. For it is clear that in Dogs, Cats, 
Rabbits, &c., the co-ordinated actions which result from localized 
stimulation of the Cerebral convolutions, — expressing, by the Nervous 
mechanism proper to each species, the Mental states naturally called 
up by their sensational experiences, — are as truly the "reflex actions 
of the Cerebrum," as the simpler forms of movement are of the Axial 
Cord. Now the Nervous mechanism of Man, as has been pointed 
out over and over again in the preceding pages, forms itself in accord- 
ance with the modes in which it is habitually called into action ; and 
thus, it may well be believed, any special modes of co-ordinated 
movement to which an individual has been trained, or has trained 
himself, come to be so completely the reflex actions of particular 



* Dr. Ferrier was himself so mticli impressed in one caso by the infeUifjent 
cliaracter of the succession of actions thus called-forth, as to speak of it as 
"evidently an acted dream." But if fhis was, then everj/ other must be regarled 
In be same fight ; and the Writer fails to see in what the evidence of conscious- 
oesp consists. It seems to him that it might just as well be ^aid that the hea'lless 
^ody of a Frog is animated by a directing Will, when one leg wipes off an irritant 
applied to the other (§ 67). 

f This view of the origin of those forms of Epilepsy which commence •wdth convnl- 
61 ve spasm of the muscles ordinarily put in action voluntarily, as distinguished 
from those which primarily affect the muscles of Respiration whose centre of action 
is the Medulla Oblongata, is due to the clinical sagacity of Dr. Hughiiugs Jacksoa 



General Results. 719 



centres of his Cerebrum, that, if we could stiraulate those centres by 
Electricity, respondent movements of the kind acquired by such 
special training would be the result. And since we now seem justified 
in asserting that such movements may be executed unconsciously, we 
may further regard it as at any rate conceivable that they may be 
excited unconsciously, even though such excitement comes through 
one of the organs of Special Sense. 

Tlie foUowing statement recently made to the Writer by a gentleman of tigh 
intelligence, the Editor of a most important Provincial Newspaper, would be 
almost inci'edible, if cases somewhat similar were not already familiar to us : — 
"I was formerly," he said, **a Reporter in the House of Commons; and it 
several times happened to me, that having fallen asleep from sheer fatigue to- 
wards the end of a debate, I found, on awaking after a short interval of entire 
unconsciousness, that I had continued to note down correctly the speaker's words. 
— I believe," he added, " that this is not an uncommon experience among Parlia- 
mentary Reporters." (Compare §§ 71, 194.) — The reading aloud with correct 
emphasis and intonation, or the performance of a piece of music, or (as in the 
case of Albert Smith) the recitation of a frequently-repeated composition, whilst 
the conscious mind is entirely eiigrossed in its own thoughts and feelings, may 
thus be accounted for without the supposition that the Mind is actively engaged 
in two different operations at the same moment ; which would seem tantamount 
to saying that there are two Egos in the same organism. 

'But, fourthly, these results entirely harmonize with the view formerly 
expressed (§§23, 89), that the Cerebrum does not act immediately on the 
motor nerves, but that it plays downwards on the motor centres con- 
tained within the Axial Cord ; from which, and not from the Cerebral 
convolutions, the motor nerves take their real departure. For 
although either mechanical or electric stimulation of a motor nerve in 
any part of its course, of the motor columns of the Spinal Cord, or of 
the fibrous strands which constitute the upward prolongations of these 
into the corpora striata, calls forth muscular contractions, no ' such 
contractions were excited by the faradization of the fibres of which the 
medullary substance of the Cerebrum is composed, any more than by 
mechanical stimulation. And the fact that all the muscles concerned 
in the ordinary movements of the body can be thrown into contraction 
by stimulation of these lower centres, — the extensors through the coi'- 
pora quadrigemina, while the flexors predominated when the corpora 
9iriMa were stimulated, — seems to show that the office of the Cere- 
brum is not immediately to evoke, but to co-ordinate and direct the 
muscular contractions excited through these antagonistic primary 
centres ; just as it controls the Respiratory movements whose centre 
is in the medulla oblongata. 

In the fifth place, these experiments throw great light on the 
•* crossed " action of the several ganglionic centres contained withiu 
50 



720 Appendix, — Dr. Ferrier on the Brain. 

klie skull, which had previously been a matter of considerable 
obscurity; some phenomena of disease appearing to show that the 
motor centres of one side act on the nerves of the opposite side 
exclusively, whilst others seem to indicate that those of one side may 
affect the muscles on both sides. Anatomical investigation favoured 
the latter view, by showing that whilst some of the motor strands {corpora 
pyramidalia) which connect the Brain with the Spinal Cord, decussate, 
or cross to the opposite side, others pass continuously downwards 
without decussation. Now Dr. Eerrier found that the motor action of 
the corpora striata is strictly limited to the muscles of the opposite 
side of the body ; being probably exerted solely through the decussa- 
ting strands. On the other hand, the motor action of the corpora 
quadrigemina is not thus limited ; the extensors of both sides being 
called into contraction by the application of the stimulus to eithei 
lateral half of the anterior pair ; so that they would seem to act through 
both the decussating and the non-decussating strands. In his experi- 
ments on the Cerebral Hemispheres, again, Dr. Ferrier found the motor 
action to be generally limited to the opposite side of the body ; though in 
some movements, particularly those of the mouth, it was obvious that 
muscles of both sides were put in action. Now it is well known that 
extensive destruction of the substance of either hemisphere, if result- 
mg from the gradual action of disease, may occur without any obvious 
loss of voluntary movement; though sudden injuries of a certain 
severity occasion paralysis of the opposite half of the body, which, 
however, is usually incomplete and of transitory duration. And Dr. 
F. inclines to accept the conclusion drawn by Dr. Broadbent from 
clinical observation, that the movements which are most independent 
on the two sides, are those which are most completely paralyzed by 
injury to one side of the Cerebrum ; whilst those in which the co- 
operation of the muscles on both sides is required, may be sustained 
by the action of either hemisphere. Not improbably the great 
transverse commissure {corpus callosum) here comes into action, 
enabling either hemisphere singly to do the work — to a certain 
extent — of both ; while there seems some ground for the belief that 
the left hemisphere, which chiefly directs the movements of the right 
half of the body, is the " driving " side. For in all save " left-handed" 
persons, any movement which may be initiated by either limb, ia 
almost sure to be initiated by the right : thus in beginning to walk, 
we almost invariably put the right foot foremost; and a person 
desired to hold up his hand, will as probably hold up his right 
hand.* 

* In the well-known case of the murder of Mr Blight by Patch, in which the 



General Results, 721 



But, sixthly, we have to inquire how far these experimental results 
justify the belief that there is any such localization of strictly mental 
states, as there is of the centres of the expression of those states in 
movement. And as to this it must be confessed that we are still very 
much in the dark, — the only fact that seems to affoid any clue to the 
solution of the mystery, being the apparent coincidence between the 
motor centre of the lips and tongue in the lower animals, and that 
region in the human Cerebrum of which disease is so often found to 
be associated with Aphasia (§ 355). Tiiis association, however, seems 
by no means so constant as to establish a causative relation between the 
Physical and the Psychical state ; and a careful examination of the 
phenomena of Aphasia would probably lead to the conclusion, that 
several distinct forms of disorder have been grouped under one 
designation. The typical Aphasia consists (as stated in § 354), in the 
loss of the memory of words, or rather of the power of recalling them ; 
the patient understanding what is said to him, but not being able to 
reply verbally, because he is unable to call to mind the words which 
would express his thoughts. Such patients are exactly in the condition 
of the "Biologized" subject (§ 462), who, being assured that he cannot 
recollect his own name, finds himself absolutely unable to do so. But in 
other instances, it would seam as if the defect were not so much in the 
want of the memory of words, as in the want of power to express them 
vocally ; and this, not from paralysis of the nerves of speech, but 
from an interruption to the action of the Will on the motor centi-es 
(§ 312). And although there would seem strong ground for the belief 
that the memory of particular classes of ideas may be thus localized, 
yet it would be certainly premature to affirm that either the phenomena 
of disease, or the results of experiments, at present justify the belief 
that the region in question is the seat of the memory of words. — The 
analogy afforded by the specialization of dotunward (motor) action. 
would lead us to anticipate that a like centralization may exist for 
upward (sensory) action ; and that particular parts of the convolutions 
may be the special centres of the classes of perceptional Ideas that are 
automatically called up by sense-impressions; and anatomical investiga- 
tion, particularly in the lower animals — in which such ideas may be 
supposed to prevail almost to the exclusion of the intellectual ideas ^ 
may not improbably throw light on this relation. But in regard to those 
Mental processes which mainly consist in the selection, classification, 

aagacity of Sir Astley Cooper enabled Mm to infer from an examination of the 
lociil circumstances, that the pistol must have been fired by a left-handed man, 
the prisoner, when called upon to plead and hold up his right hand, held up hia 
lefk 



722 Appendix. — Z^r. Fei^rier on the Brain. 

and comparison of distinct Ideas (§ 227), wlietlier these processes 
be carried on volitionally or automatically, it still seems to the Writer 
just as absurd as it formerly did*, to suppose that there can be special 
" organs" for their performance, such as those named Comparison and 
Osusality in the Phrenological system. 

• EritJHli s«jd Foiieign ?yl«dica] Review, October, 18^ 



INDEX. 



Abercrombie, Dr., cited from, on 

reproduction of sensorial states, 
112; on spectral illusions, 16t); 
on memory, 430, 43S, 439, 
443, 451, 452 ; on dreaming, 
587; on somnambulism, 593, 
600 

Abstraction, state of, 544-548 

Acquired Habits, 213-217; mainte- 
nance of, 218, 345-351 ; heredi- 
tary transmission of, 90, 104, 571- 
374; {seeSabit) 

Acquired Intuition of common sense, 
473 

Acquired Perceptions, 181-204 ; (see 
Perceptions) 

Actors, memory of, 452 

-Esthetic Sense, 210 ; improvement of 
in race, 513, 514 

Afferent nerve-fibres, 37, 38, 62, 63 

Age, influence of, on psychical ten- 
dencies, 365-366 

Alcoholic intoxication, 649-653 

Alcoholism, 65U, hereditary ti-ansmia- 
sion of, 369, 370 

Amanita, intoxication by, 6-12 

Amoeba, 41, 42 

Amphioxus, nervous system of, 65 

Anaesthesia, 152 

Animal Life, apparatus of, 29, 31 

Anthropomorphism, 7ul, 702 

Aphasia, 44H-448, 721 

A pparent Death of Hindoo devotees, 
552 note 

Apparitions, 209 

Appold, Mr., his mode of invention, 
535 

Arabs of Sahara, scent of, 141 

Aristotelian dogmas, 409 

Arithmetic, science of, 231 



Armstrong, Rev. G., and Blaneo 

White, 402 
Arnold, Dr., influence of, 358 
Articulated animals, nervous system 

of, 50-61 
Artistic Power, hereditary, 373, 374 
Artistic Representation, mental action 

in, 222, 259, 260 
Ascending fibres of Cerebrum, 99, 100 
Ascidian Mollusk, nervous system of, 

45-47 
Assent, automatic nature of, 395 
Assimilating process, in memory, 449 
Association, laws of, 251—259 ; con- 
structive, 259, 260 ; dropping- 
out of links of, 527-529 ; (see 
Suggestion) 
Associations, early, strength of, 344 
Atkinson, Mr., his philosophy, 4 
Attention, state of, '25, 130-132 ; phy- 
sical condition in, 382-384 ; 
either volitional or automatic, 
132— 13S; training of, 133, 13ti 
Automatic, 132 ; in children, 
133-135; contrasted with vo- 
litional, 138 
Expectant, influence of. on pro- 
duction of movements, 2SS- 
392 ; on organic actions 682- 
690 
Volitional, 386-391 ; contrasted 
with automatic, 132-136 j 
exercise of, in sensation, 
137-147 ; in perception, 182, 
183, 204-206 ; in succession 
• of thought, 251, 26i-264; 
in control over emotions, 
330-336 ; in formation of be- 
liefs, 399-403 ; m determina- 
tion of conduct, 414, 42u, 



724 



Index. 



422 ; in recollection, 467 ; in 
imagination, 510-512 

A-uthority, submission to, in matters 
of belief, 404. 405, 412 

Automatic Action of Body, 16-24; 
74-76: mechanism of, 213-218, 
'342, 343 ; (see Reflex Action) 

Automatic Action of Mind, 25-28 : in 
attention, 132— 135 ; in succession 
of thought, 262-275 ; in memory, 
465-469; in common sense, 475, 
476 ; in judgments, 483 ; in 
imagination, 489-511; in ab- 
straction and reverie, 544—548 ; 
in electro-biology, 548-567 ; in 
dreaming, 584-591 ; in somnam- 
bulism, 591-601 ; in hypnotism, 
601-610; in intoxication, 636- 
656 ; (see Children) 

Aversions, elementary forms of, 211 

Awakening, conditions of, 567, 580- 
583 

Axioms, fundamental, 226, 227 ; origin 
of, 227-230 

Axial Cord, general functions of, 23, 
24,64,719 

Axioms, self-evident, 226, 227, 408 

Axis-cylinder of nerve-fibres, 33 

Batlt, Francis, his account of Zerah 

Colburn, 232-235 
Bain, Prof., on association, 25"^ 
Balancing, action of, 214, 215, 474, 

475 
Bank, loss of key in, 523 
Barclay, Captain, his power of sleep- 
ing, 579 
Barristers, memory of, 436, 452, 453 
lieattie, Dr., his case of loss of Greek, 

443 
Beauty, elementary notion of, 242 
Beaver, brain of, 91 ; instincts of, 92 
Uees, instincts of, 57-61 
Beethoven, his deafness, 171 
Beliefs, formation of, 395 ; conform- 
ableness to fabric of thought, 
395-399; influence of will on, 
399-403; influence of Nemos on, 
362,403; (see Truth)^ 
Beliefs, Primary, 226 ; origin of, 227- 

230 
Bell, Mr. T., on shepherd's dog, 102 
Bennett, Prof., his cases of subiectiVe 



sensation, 168; of paralj^sis of 
will. 385 

Bertrand, M., on influence of expec- 
tancy, 622 

Binocular Microscope, invention of, 
538 

Binocular Vision, 189-191 

Biology, (see Electro- Biology) 

Birds, brain of, 79; instincts of, SO, 
81 ; intelligence of, 85-90 ; ao« 
quired instincts of, 90 

Birkenhead, loss of, 355 

Biting Epidemic of nuns, 315 

Blanco White and Mr. Armstrong, 402 

Blind, tactile reading by, 141 

Blindness, congenital, cases of, 180, 
181,188, 189 

Blood, special supply of to nervous 
system, 38 ; to brain, 39, 40 

Blood-supply, dependence of nerve- 
force on, 380-385, 710, 711 

Body and Mind, general relations of, 
^ 1-15, 26-28 

Braid, Mr., his case of exalted muscu- 
lar sense, 143 ; of exalted sense of 
smell, 607 ; his experiments on 
subjective sensations, lt>0-164 ; 
on odylic force, 548-550; oq 
electro-biology, 550-551 ; on 
hypnotism. 6U1-610 

Brain, of fishes. 65, *aQ ; of reptiles, 66- 
68 ; of birds, 79-82 ; of mammals, 
91-94, 116; of man, 95-100, 116; 
(see Cerebrum, Cerebellum) 

Breathing, movements of, 16-19, 73 

Breda, siege of, 688 

Brewster, Sir D,, on conversion of 
relief, 195; his natural magic, ^2i 

Bridgman. Laura, her tactile discrimi- 
nation, 141 

Brodie, Sir B.. on unconscious cere- 
bration, 531 

Bronte, Miss, her experiences of un- 
conscious cerebration, 535 

Brown, Dr. T., on philosophic spirib, 
413 

Brown-Sequard, on reparation of 
spinal cord, 76, 342 ; on epilef tio 
guinea-pigs, 371 

Brutal type, 425 

Biidil, Dr. W., his cases of reflex action, 
70-72; Ids case of secondarily 
automatic action, 75 



Index. 



725 



Bushnell, Dr., on unconscious influ- 
ences, 541, 542 

Buttons, suspended, movements of, 
283 

Buxton, Charles, ix 

Carltle, Thomas, 209, 412 ; his por- 
trait of Coltridge, 2H9, 270 

Carpenter, Dr. Lant. character of, 359 

Carter, Mr., on emotional influence, 
682 

Cataract, congenital, cases of, 180, 181, 
lb>, U-9 

Caterpillar, instincts of, 61 

Causation, meaning of, 693, 694 ; unity 
of, 696, H97 

Centric discharge of nerve-force, 381, 
382, 710, 711 

Cerebellum, in fishes, 66; in reptiles, 
67 ; in birds. 79 ; in mammals, 
121, 122 ; functions of, 716 

Cerebration. Unconscious (see Uncon- 
scious Cerebration) 

Cej'efjrum, its general functions, 23-24; 
effects of its removal, 81 ; a super- 
added organ, 64—85; in fishes, ; 
65, 6Q ; in reptiles, 67 ; in birds, 
79 ; its evolution in mammalian 
series, 93-100, 116, 117 ; its rela- | 
tion to intelhgence, 95-98; its , 
curtical layer, 94 ; its convolu- | 
tions, 95, 117; of man, 94-100; | 
its anatomical relation to sensorial i 
centres, 99. 109-111; its auto- I 
matic action, 105-109; the in- 
strument of psychical or inner i 
life, 120 ; its growth to habitual 
modes of action, 343-345; its 
subsequent maintenance, 345- 
847; special functions of convo- 
lutions. 710-714 

Centipede, its nervous system, 50-52 ; 
reflex action of, 53-55 

Cephalic Ganglia, of Mollusks, 49-50 ; 
of Articulata, 51, 52 

Chaetodon, shooting of, 179 

( halmer.^, Dr., on uniformity of 
Nature, 705 

Uhanning, Dr., on slavery, 401 ; on 
genius, 503, 5'^i5 

Cbaiacter, in what it consists, 250 

C'he.selden, his case, 18» 

Chevreul, M., on oscillaliona of sus- 



pended buttons, 283; on divining- 
rod, 292 

Chicks, newly- hatched, actions of, 8" 

Children, training of, 133-136 ; wilful- 
ness of, 134, 135 ; first perceptiona 
of, 176, 177; wiil of, 251 ; auto- 
matic mental action in, 2t^4, 265 
elementary feelings of, 210, 211 
intellectual development of, 228 
arithmetical powets of. 232 
training of emotions in, 330, 331, 
378 ; formation of habits in, 352- 
362 ; common sense of, 477 

Christison, Sir R., h:s cases of para- 
lysis of wiil, 3'i^5 

Chronometry, unconscious, (see Time) 

Cineritious nerve-substance, 35 

Circle of Willis, 39 

Clairvoyance, reputed, 629 

Classification, nature of, 255 

Cobbe, Miss, on hereditary hand- 
writing. 372 ; on fallacies of 
memory, 457; on dreaming, 585, 
5S6, 590 

Cod, brain of, 66 

Codrington, Sir E., anecdote of, 580 

Coensesthesis, 174, 175 

Col burn, Zerah, his numerical intui- 
tion, 232-235 

Coleridge, Hartley, 370, 649, 653 

Coleridge, S. T. automatic mental ac- 
tivity of, 267-270 ; his case of 
reproduced language, 437, 438; 
Charles Lamb's reply to, 500 

Collyer, Rev. R., on hereditary alco- 
hoUsm, 370 

Common Sense, different definitions 
of, 471 ; universal or intuitive, 
472 ; ordinary, 472, 476-479 ; 
special, 472, 479-481 ; genesis of, 
473-476 ; in children, 477 ; 
judgments formed by, 478, 481- 
483 ; use of, in science, 479-481 ; 
progress of, in race, 4 "^3 -48 5 ; use 
of, dependent on will, 390, 391 ; 
suspension of, in dreams, 555. 5Sf 

Compound Association, law of, 258 

Conduct, determination of. by prepon- 
derance of motives, 377, 4 1 8-423 ; 
by volitional control, 424-428 

Conscience, nature of, 243-245. 249 

Consciousness, seat of, 109-111 

Consensual actions, 81-86 



726 



Index. 



Conservation of energy, law of, 230 
Constitutional taints, hereditary trans- 

naission of, 3t)9, 370 
Constructive Association, 259, 260 
Constructive Imagination, 487-503 
Contiguity, law of, 252-253 
Convergence of optic axes, 202, 203 
Conversion of relief, 191, 194-196 
Convolutions of Cerebrum, 95, 117; 

special functions of, 710-714 
Convulsive actions, 77-79 
Cooper, Sir A., on secretion of milk, 

678 
Correlation of Mind and Force, 6, 11-14 
Corpora Quadrigemina, functions of, 

715 
Corpora Striata, 92, 99, 121, 715 
Corpus Callosum, 99, 116, 720 
Cortical layer of Cerebrum, 95, 710 
Coughing, act of, 17, 19, 47, 381. 382 
Cretinism, hereditary transmission of, 

369 
Criminal reformation, 360, 423, 426 
Critchett, Mr., his case of cataract, 189 
Crystal Palace, Chimpanzee at, 209 
Crystals, sensations attributed to, 159, 

160 
Cuttle-fish, reflex action of, 49, 50 

Dacoits of India, 569 

Damiens, his sleeping on the rack, 140, 

570 

Dancing Mania, 312-314 

Darwin, Mr., on acquired instincts of 
Birds, 90; on handwriting, 372 

Deaf and Dumb, vocalization of, 84, 
206 ; lip-reading of, 204 

Death, from giief, 326; apparent of, 
Hindoo devotees, 552 note 

Deductive reasoning, 256 

Deity, notions of, (see God) 

Deleuze, M., his directions to mes- 
merizers, 6 1 5 

De Liefde, liev. J., his case of (Som- 
nambulism, 593, 594 

Delirium, 653-656 ; phenomena of, 
654; influence of suggestion in, 
655 

Delirium tremens, 656, ^^^ 

Delusions of Insanity, 667-672; 
genesis of, 672-674 

Demonstration, nature of, 227 ; com- 
mon-sense basis of, 479, 480 



De Quincey, on opium, 644-648 
Descending fibres of Cerebrum, 99, 

loo 

Desires, elementary forms of, 211 

Diatheses, hereditary transmission of, 
369, 370 

Dibdin, Rev. R. W., on Table-talking, 
301, 524-526 

Dictation, anticipation of words in, 2 SI 

Dimensions of Space, 410 

Diorama, pictures in, 201, 202 

Direction, sense of, 185, 186 

Discipline, value of, 356 

Discrimination of Sense-impressions, 
141, 142 

Distance, perception of, 199-201 

Divinmg power of genius, 480 

Divining-Rod, 288-292 

Dogs, sagacity of, 102-104; habitual 
actions of, 347 ; automatic action 
of, 377, 378 

Domestication, influence of, 102, 107 

Dommant Ideas, influence of, 281-315; 
in electro-biological state, 556- 
560 ; in somnambulism, 592 

Double Consciousness, 459 

Double Vision, 186, 187 

Dramatic Imagination, 455, 495 

Drawing, hereditary aptitude for, 373 

Breaming, 584- 591 ; sensations in, 157, 
165, 171 ; suspension of volitional 
direction in, 391, . 684 ; myth- 
making in, 585 ; rapid thought 
in, 588 

Drowning, vivid memory in, 688 note 

Drunkards, responsibility of, 323, 651, 
652 

Duty, sense of, elementary, 212 ; 
moral and religious, notion of, 
248, 249 ; habitual sense of, 356; 
its motive action, 415-424; not 
to act alone, 428 

Durham, Mr. A., his experimenta on 
Sleep, 571 

Dytiscus, reflex actions of, 55 

EcsTATics, stigmatization of, 689 
Educability, of Bees, 68 ; of Waaps, 

58 ; of Birds, 87-90 
Education basis of, 9, 10 ; of will, 135, 

251, 423-428 ; of attention, 133- 

136; of self-control, 331-336 

378 ; of habits, 352-362 



Index. 



727 



Efferent nerve-fibres, 37, 38 

Elfort, sense of, 387-389 

Ego, self-determining power of, 4-6, 
•25-28, 40, STti; distinguished 
from Non-ego, 177 

Electric Discharge, its analogy to that 
of nerve-force, 380-382 

SUctro-BioLogy, 54 8-551 ; nature of 
the state, 552-555; its pheno- 
mena dependent on suggestion, 
555-557, 564 ; possession by 
dominant ideas, 556 ; change 
of sensations, 557-560 ; direc- 
tion of mental states, 561, 562 ; 
change of personal identity, 562, 
563 ; mental travelling, 564 ; in- 
duction of sleep, 565 ; duration 
of sleep, 566; awakening from, 
567 

Elliotson, Dr., on expectancy, 623 

I'.motional movements, 319-322, 325 

Emotional sensibility, simple forms 
of, 173-175; higher forms of, 
210-212 

Emotional states, their action through 
sympathetic system, 127 ; their 
influence on voluntary action, 
322, 323, 384; on conduct, 416- 
423 ; on judgments, 482 ; affected 
by intoxicating agents, 638-640, 
643, 649, 650; disorder of, in 
insanity, 660-671 

Emotions, composite nature of, 316- 
318; production of movements 
by. 319-322 ; their influence on 
voluntary action, 322, 323 ; vent 
for, in movement, 324-326; in 
crying, 326 ; their eliect on voli- 
tional effort, 327-330, 384; influ- 
ence of will on, 330-336; their in- 
fluence on judgments, 482; on 
secretion, 677-681 ; on nutrition, 
68]-6y0 

Epidemic Delusions, 312-315 
Kpilepsy, 78; artificial. 710, 711 
Epileptic guinea-pigs, 37 1 
Equilibrium, maintenance of, 214, 

215,717 
Erect progression, 213-215 
Estliu, Mr., his case of congenital 

cataract, 180, 181 
Evidence, balance of, 377 note, 395 
Excito-motor actions, 124, 125 



Kxcitor nerve-fibres, 37, 38, 62, 63 
Expectant Attention, movements due 
to, 282 ; its influence on organic 
functions, 608-610; on produc- 
tion of disease, 683, 689 ; on cure 
of disease, 684-688 
Expectation of success, its influence 

on volitional efibrt 327-330 
Experiences, co-ordination of, 475- 481 
Expression of Emotions, in move- 
ment, 218, 219, 319-322, 325 ; in 
mental states, 323, 324 ; in secre- 
tions, 326, 677-680 ; in nutritive 
action, 681-690 
Externality, 6 ; sense of, 177, 226 
Eyes, movements of, 22 ; convergence 
of, 202, 203 ; direction by Cere- 
bellum, 716, 717 

Fabric of thought, 396-399, 407 
Faculties, Intellectual, 250, 260-262 ; 

automatic action of, 250, 262, 

264-275 ; volitional direction of, 

251, 263, 276-278 
Faith, its efficacy in cure of disease, 

684-688 
Fallacies of Memory, 456-459 
False Perceptions, 206-209 
Fancy, 497 

Fantasia of hachisch, 635-644 
Faraday, Prof, on table-turning, 293, 

294, 627 note 
Faria, Abbe, his mode of inducing 

sleep, 579 
Fatigue, sense of, bodily, 18 ; mental, 

388,389 
Feelings, simple, 171-175 ; instinctive, 

209-213 
Feelings of others, consideration for, 

417 
Ferrier, Dr., his experiments on the 

Brain, 709-722 
Fish, nervous system of, 61-66 
Fistula lachrymalis, cure of, 685 
Fleming, J 'r., his experiments on 

sleep, 572 
Force, relation of, to Mind, 10-14; 

notion of, in causation, 693, 694 
Forces, Correlation of, 693-696 
Form, perception of, 187-1S9; solid, 

perception of, 189-201 
Foster, Mr., his spiritualistic per- 
formances, 308-310 



728 



Index, 



Franklin, Dr., on learning to swim, 

•6-11 
Frog, reflex actions of, 68, 69 

Ganglia, nervous, 32, 35 
Gangliated cord, of Articulate, 51-53; 

of cuttle fish, 49, 50 
Gauss, Prof., his absti action, 547 
Genius, nature of, 603 ; working of, 

509-511 ; not to be acquired, 25 ; 

intuitions of, 230 ; divining power 

of. 480 
Geology, common sense basis of, 480 
Geometry, axioms of, 2-6, 227 ; basis 

of, 408, 409 
Gilleon, Rev. E., on table-talking, 

299, 300 
God, being and attributes of, 246, 247, 

697-708 
Godfrey, Rev. N. S., on table-talking, 

298, 299, 306 
Goitre, hereditary transmission of, 369 
Gout cured by expectancy, 688 
Governor of steam-engine, 507, 508 
Gregory, Dr. James, his case of som- 
nambulism, 601 
Greyhounds, adaptiveness of, 338 
Grey nerve-substance, 35 
Grief, death from, 326 
Grog, reduction of, in Navy, 649, 650 
Gromia, 42 

Grote, Mr., on influence of Nomos, 362 
Growth, physiology of, 337-339; of 

nervous system, 342-345; relation 

of, to habit, 344 
Guinea-pigs, epileptic, 371 

Uahit, relation of mental to corporeal, 
337 ; connection of, with nutri- 
tive action, 337-341; with growth 
and maintenance of nervous sys- 
tem, 341-347 ; illustrations of, 
847-350; importance of right 
direction of, o 5 0-3 6 2 ; early 
formation of, 352-362; subse- 
quent determination of, 362-366; 
volitional control over, 366-367 ; 
hereditary transmission of, 367- 
375 ; influence of, on sensations, 
154, 155 ; on perception, 178 ; 
on movement, 213-218; on con- 
duct, 414-424 

Habits, influence of early, in religion 



and morals, 243, 362, 3^3, 408- 
405 ; tenacity of, 349, 542, 543 
Hachisch, fantasia of, 635-646 
Hall, Robert, his mastery of pain, 188, 

139 
Hamerton, Mr., referred to, 222 
Hamilton, Dr. R., his abstraction, 547 
Hamilton, Sir Wm., on attention, 25; 
on unconscious record, 434 ; on 
common sense, 471 ; on latent 
mental modifications, 518, 527- 
529 
Hamilton, Sir "W. R., his invention of 

quaternions, 537 
Hammock of Caterpillars, 61 
Handwriting, hereditary, 372 
Hansard, Kev. S., his early memory, 
430, 431; effect of accident to, 
4.50 
Hare, Dr., on Spiritualism, 306 
Hartley, Dr., on mental automatism, 
viii, note ; his class of secondarily 
automatic movements, 16 note, 74 
Hayden, Mrs., her spirit-rapping, 307, 

308 
Haydn, his volitional culture, 275, 

276-279 
Hearing, remarkable acuteness of, 
153 : discriminative power of, 
137 
Heart, beating of, 16, 32 
Hertditary Transmission in animals, 
90, 104; doctrine of, 367, 388; 
of constitutional taints, 369 ; of 
results of alcoholic excess, 369, 
370 ; of acquired peculiarities, 
371-374; of mental aptitudes, 
374,375 
Herodotus, his story of Scythians, 356 
Herschel, Sir J., hisviisual spectra, 114 
Hibbert, Dr., on Apparitions, 209 
Hogg, James, on shepherd's dog, 102- 

J04 
Holland, Sir H., on effects of attention 
on bodily organs, 145 ; his tem- 
porary loss of memory, -J 41 ; on 
dislocation of memoiy, 447 ; on 
recovery of lost ideas, 521 ; on 
intermediate states between sLiep 
and waking, 578 
Holmes, 0. W., on unconscious cere- 
bration, 520-533, 534, 539 
Holy Thorn, miracle of, 686 



Index, 



729 



Homicidal Insanity, 664, 665 

Book, Theodore, his improvisation, 
494, 495, 649 

Hooping-cough, 382 

Horse, control of by ridir, 24; 
habitual actions of, 348 

Hottentots, visual sense of, 142 

Houdin, Robert, his culture of acute 
perception, 205, 206 ; his second- 
arily-acquired, automatic move- 
ments, 217 

Howe, Dr., on emotional excitement 
of idiot, :325 

Ruber, on instinct of Caterpillar, 61 

Hume, Joseph, his common-sense judg- 
ments, 47 s 

Humour, 500-502 

Hunter, John, his case of reflex 
action, 70 

Hnss, Dr., on alcoholism, 650 

Huxley, Prof., on corpus calloeum, 
lie ; on sen.sation, 150 

Hydrophobia, excitement of convul- 
sion of, 83, 115 

Hypersemia, of nerve-centres, effects 
of, 381-384. 425, 710. 711 

Hypersesthesia, 152 ; hysterical, ]53 

Hypnotism, mode of induction of, 
601 ; state of, b02 ; phenomena 
of, 143, 603-608 

Hypochondriacal tendency, 683 

Hysteria, convulsion of, 79, 83 ; acute- 
ness of sensibility in, 153; re- 
markable case of, 597 

Hj'sterical temperament, 332 ; para- 
lysis, 386 

Iago, 425 

Ideal, aspiration after, 107; divine, 

428, 701 

Idealization, artistic, 260 

Ideas, nature and formation of, 220- 
223 ; excitement of, by sensa- 
tions, 168-171; signified by lan- 
guage, 2^3-225; succession of, 
249, 250; automatic, 250-258; 
volitional, 251, 263; production 
of sensations by, 158-164; pro- 
duction of movements by, 279- 
315 ; participation of, in emo- 
tions, 316-318 

Ideation, the representatire faculty, 
220 



Ideational hypersemia, production of 

movement by, 383 

Identity, personal (see Personal iden- 
tity) 

Ideo-motor actions, 124, 125, 279- 
315 

Idiot, emotional excitement of, 325; 
habitual actions of, 349, 360; 
early memory of, 431 

Idols, mental, worship of, 401 ; re- 
ligious, 708 

Illusions, spectral, 113, 114, 165-168, 
206-209 

Imagination, nature of, 487 ; Con- 
structive, 488 ; automatic basis 
of, 489 ; volitional direction of, 
488-492; action of, in improvisa- 
tion, 492-496 ; in fancy, 497 ; in 
wit, 498; in humour, 500-502; 
Creative, 503 ; action of, in dis- 
covery and invention, 504-50S; 
in art, 508-511 ; volitional action 
in, 511-512; culture of, 513, 
514 

Imago, its relation to Larva, 58, 59. 

Imitation, morbid tendency to, 314, 
315, 654, 655, 666, 667 

Improvisation, 492-496 

Impulsive Insanity, 664-666 

Independent thinkers, tendencies of, 
405, 406 

Induction, nature of, 256 

Infants, nursery training of, 353, 354 

Ingenuity, nature of, 503, 504 

Injuries, impaii-ment of memory by, 
443-448 

Insanity, 657 ; deficient volitional 
control in, 658 ; connection of, 
with physical states, 658-660 ; 
mania, 660, 661 ; intellectual in- 
sanity, 661, 662; moral insanity, 
663 ; monomania, 664 ; impulsive 
insanity, 664-667 ; delusions of, 
667-672 ; genesis of, 672-674 ; 
influence of self-control on, 67-^- 
675 ; temporary, 323, 651 ; emo- 
tional excitement in, 325 ; change 
of identity in, 563; its relation 
to intoxication, 644, 651, 652 

Insight of women, 417, 486 

Instinct, contrasted with Intelligence, 
57, 100, 101 ; un progressive cha> 
racter of, 106, lu7 



730 



Index. 



Instinctive Actions, 48 ; compound 
reflex nature of, 56; of Insects, 
57-til ; of Birds, 79-81; of 
Beaver, 92. 93 

Instinctive Feelings, 209-213 

Instinctive iVlovements in Man, 213- 
219 

Intellectual Operations, (see Faculties). 

Intelligence, contrasted with Instinct, 
101, 102; of birds, 85-90; of 
dogs, 102-104 ; proportioned to 
development of Cerebrum, d4; in 
Man, 95-98 

Internal Senses, nerves of, 99, 111 

Internuncial function of nervous 
system, 44 

Intoxication, state of, 636 ; by ha- 
chisch, '>36-64 4; by opium, 644- 
648; by alcohol, 649-653 ; affinity 
of, to Insanity, 6j4, 651, 652; 
(see Delirium) 

Intuitions, primary, 226 ; origin of, 
227-230; numerical, 231-235; 
musical, 235-241 ; secondary, 486 

Intuitive Perceptions, 184, 185 

Irrationality of Instinct, in Bees, 60 ; 
in Beaver, 92, 93 

Invention, 5(i7, 508,534-538 

Involuntary Movements, 379 ; (see Au- 
tomatic and R.cjiex Action) 

Involuntary Muscles, 379 

Jackdaws, nest of, 86 
Jelly-specks, 41-44 
Jesse, Mr., on nest of jackdaws, 86 
Jadijmei^t, 2H2 ; immediate, action of 
in perception, 197, 198, 202 ; its 
exercise in common sense, 471, 
472, 476, 477, 481 ; by un- 
conscious cerebration, 531-533 
Justice, formation of idea of, 357-359 
Juvenile Reformation, 9, 10, 423, 426 

Kepler, ing-enuity of, 504; lawe of, 

692 
Key, loss of, in bank, 523 
Kiu'^'s Evil, touching for, 686 
Kitto, Dr., case of, 216 ; children of, 

264 
Knight, Mr. T. A., on hereditary trans- 
mission, 104 

Lamb. Charles, 269. 500 



Lancelet, nervous system of, 65 

Language, the expression ot ideas, 
223-225 

Languages, memory of, 440 ; forgotten 
and recovered, 437, 438 ; 

Larva, relation of to Imago, 58, 59 ; 
nervous system of, 52 

Lateau, Louise, stigmatization of, 689, 
690 

Latent Alental modification, 514, 617 

Law, government by, 706 

Laws of Association, 251-259 

Laws of Nature, 692-696 

Lay cock, Dr., on reflex action of the 
brain, 105 ; on unconscious cere- 
bration, 516; on aconite, 643, 644 

Learning by heart, 344 

Lecky, Mr., on toleration, 542; on 
return of early states of feeling, 
543 

Leibnitz, on unconscious mental action, 
514, 61«, 519 

Lewes, Mr. G. H., on spirit-rapping, 
307 

Ley den, Dr , his power of memory, 451 

Lind, Jenny, imitation of, by factory 
girl, 607 

Lip-reading, 204 

Listening, act of, 137, 382 

Locomotion, movements of, 17-19 

Loss of memory, case of complete, 
460-465; partial, 442-448 

Love, early influence of, 360-362 ; 
action of principle of, 417 ; un- 
conscious growth of, 540 

Lyell, Sir C., on adaptiveness of grey- 
hounds, 338 

Macgregor, Mr., his instance of uncon- 
scious cerebration, 521 

Madden, Dr., on liutter's Magneto- 
meter, 286 

Magnetism, Animal (see Mesmerism) 

Magnetometer, Hutter's, 286, 288 

Magnets, sensations attributed to, 
159-lti4 

Maintenance, nutritive, 339, 340 ; of 
nervous system, 345, 346 

Malaise, sense of, 173 

Mammalia, brain of, 91-100 

Man, Brain of, 94-100; Psychical 
peculiarities of, 106-108 

Mania, 660. 661 



Index. 



731 



Manning, Archbishop, referred to, 5, 6, 

186,333 
Mansfield, Lord, his advice, 482 
Mantis, reflex actions of, 54, 55 
Martineau, Miss H., her philosophy, 4 ; 
her account of an idiot, 349, 350, 
431 
Martineau, Rev. J., his character of 
Dr. Lant Carpenter, 358, 359 ; on 
conscience, 244; on relation of 
Science to Religion, 691, 708 
Mask, conversion of relief of, 195, 196 
Materialistic hypothesis, "2-7 
Matliematics, 226, 227 ; basis of, 408, 
409; nature of reasoning in, 479, 
480 ; imagination in, 5U7 
Matter, its relations to Force, 11 
Mayer, Dr., on conservation of energy, 

230 
Mayo, Mr. H., on maintenance of 
equilibrium, 215 ; on movements 
of suspended bodies, 284, 285 ; 
on divining-rod, 290 
Medallion-engravings, monocular view 

of, 193 
Medulla Oblongata, 63, 73, 119 
Medullary substance of cerebrum, 94 
Memory., nature of, 409 ; automatic 
character of, 465, 466 ; instances 
of early, 430, 431 ; reproduction 
of sensations by, 432, 433; repro- 
duction of ideas by, 433, 434 ; re- 
cord left by impressions, 434-436 ; 
physical traces of, 436-439 ; con- 
ditions of, 439-441 ; impairment 
of, in old age, 442 ; by disease and 
injury, 443-448; assimilating 
action in, 44 9; time required for 
recording process, 450 ; different 
kinds of, 450-453 ; nob everything 
recorded, 454 ; recognition re- 
quired, 454-456 ; fallacies of, 
4 56-458; double consciousness, 
459; complete loss of, 460-465; 
culture of, 469, 470; (see Recol- 
lection) 
Mental action, dependence of, on Phy- 
sical antecedents, 12, 13, 40, 382 
Mental aptitudes, hereditary trans- 
mission of, 374, 375 
Mesmeric Force, supposed, 618-623 
Mesnierisin, 311 ; diti'erent phases of 
belief in, 609-61 6 ; phenomena of, 



elucidated by those of hypnotism 
616 — 618 ; influence of expect- 
ancy in, 618-623 ; no special 
rapport, 623-625 ; tendency to 
self-deception in, 62^ ; relative 
credibility of asserted phenomena 
of, 626-635 

Metallic Tractors, 686 

Mewing Epidemic of nuns, 315 

Milk, induction of renewed flow of, 
609 ; influence of Emotions on, 
678-681 

Mill, Mr. J. S., referred to, 131, 519, 
529, 692; letter from, 486 

Mind and Body, general relations of, 
1-15, 26-28 

Mind, automatic activity of, 25-28 ; 
(see Automatic action of Mind) 

Mollusks, simple nervous system of, 
45-47 ; higher forms of, 49, 50 

Mongols, visual sense of, 142 

Monocular vision, 192-197 

Monomania, 664; delusions of, 667- 
674 

Moon, stereoscopic photographs of, 
198 

Moore, Mr. C. H., on going to sleep, 
572 

Moral Insanity, 323, 663 

Moral Sense, elementary form of, 212; 
nature of, 243-245 ; its suspen- 
sion in dreams, 586 

Moreau, M., on hachisch, 635-644 

Morell, Dr. J. D., on perception, 176, 
177; on aesthetic sense, 210; on 
ideas, 220 note; on education of 
will, 424 

Morgan, Jemmy, case of, 180, 181 

Motives, different classes of, 414-418; 
relation of, to will, 418-423 

Motor nerve-fibres, 37, 38, 62, 63 

Mozart, intuitive gifts of, L36-241 ; 
automatic action of, 271-275 ; 
his improvisation, 496 

Muacular Power, influence of emo- 
tion on, 327, 328 ; in hypnotism, 
606 

Muscular Sense, 83, 84; guidance 
afforded by, 214, 215 ; exaltation 
ot in somnambulism, 143 

Muscular Suggestion in hypnotism, 605 

Music, science of, 235 ; loss of memory 
for, 443 



732 



Index, 



Musical Tntuition. 236-241 
Musical Performance. automatic nature 
of, 217; hereditary apti- 
tude for, 373 
Myths, crip^in of, 45S, 459 
Myth-making, in dreams, 585. 5o6, 
590 ; in mesmerism and spiritual- 
ism, ti30, 634. 

N A Smyth's steam-hammer, 508 

Nature, Laws of, <i92-69() 

Order of, fi92, 697, 703-708 
Uniformity of, 2:^6, 241, 705 
Unity of, 696 
Will in, 703-708 

Nausea, reproduction of, 432 

Navy, reduction of spirit-allowance in, 
649, 650 

Kerve-cells, 33, 35, 36 

Nerve-fibres, structure of, 33-38 

Kerve-force, production of, 13, 14, 
380 ; dependence of, on blood- 
supply, 380-385; discharge of, 
381-^84, 710-712 

Nerve-trunks, 32, 33 

Nervine Stimulants, habituation of 
system to, 154, 173, 653 

Nervous circle, 46 

Nervous System, simplest form of, 32, 
33 ; elementary structure of, 33- 
38; in Ascidian, 45-47 ; of higher 
Moilusks, 49, 50; of Articulata, 
51-53 ; of Insects, 52-54 ; of 
Vertebrata, 61-64; of Fishes, 65, 
QQ ; of lieptiles, 66-69 ; of Birds, 
79-82; of Mammals, 91-100; 
general relations of parts of, 
118-125; habituation of, to ner- 
vine stimulants, 154, 173; its 
growth to its mode of exercise, 
75, 76; to particular modes of 
feeling, 154, 155, 173; to ac- 
quired perceptions, 181, 182, 204 ; 
to secondarily-automatic move- 
ments, 2l;'i-2l8; to modes of 
thought, 228, 229; its recon- 
structive activity, 341-344; 
greatest during growth, 344 ; its 
subsequent maintenance, 345, 
346 ; its decline. :>4'>, ;-i47 (see 
Cei'elirum, Cerebellum, Si>inal Cord, 
Sympathetic System) 

Newuian, Francis, on the Soul, 107 



I Newton, Sir I., his ocular spectra, 
166; his formula for solution ol 
I equations, 235 ; his genius, 504- 

i 507 

' Nicolai, case of, 167 

Niebuhr, his reiiroduction of visual 
setisations. 1 I 2 

Noble, Dr., on emotional sensibility, 
175 ; on fallacies of memory, 457, 
458 ; his mesmeric experiments, 
619-622 

Nomadic habits, persistence of, 364, 
365 

Nomos, influence of, 362, 363, 403, 
405 

Numerical Intuition, 230-235 

Nuns, mewing and biting of, 315 

Nutrition, general laws of, 337-340; 
affection of, by nervine stimu- 
lants, 154, 173; by emotions, 
678-681 

Obeah practices, 683 
Objective Truth, 410, 411 
Obligation, hab:'tual sense of, 356 
Odyle, sensations attributed to, 159, 
160; movements attributed to, 
284, 285 
Odjdic force, Mr. Braid on, 548-550 
Old Age, impairment of Memory in, 

442 
Order, formation of habit of, 353- 

356 
Order of Nature, 692,, 697, 703-708. 
Organic Functions, influence of emo- 
tions on, 676-6:52 ; influence of 
expectancy on, 608-610, 632- 
688 , of religious impressions on, 
688-700 
Organic Life, apparatus of, 30, 31 
Oxygenated Blood, need of, for Mental 
activity, 40 

Paget, Sir J., on formntive action, 

340; on unconscious chrouometry, 

348 
Pain, feelings of, 171-173; distraction 

of attention frora, 138-140 
Palmer, Mr., on parrots, 89, 90 
Pantheism, 701, 702 
Papillge of Touch, 86 
Paralysis of lower limbs, reflex raov» 

menta in. 7U-72 



Index, 



733 



Paralysis of will, 3 So, 647 ; hysterical, 

Parrots, their intelligence, 89, 90 
Paternal Character of (iod, 707 
Peixeption, elementary, nature of, 
176, 177 ; formation of, 178, 3 79 ; 
acquirement of, 180-182; atten- 
tion required for, 183, 184; of 
direction, 185, 186; of singleness 
of obiect, 186-187; of form, 
187-189; of relief, 189-199; of 
distance, 199-201 ; of size, 201- 
2ii4; an act of judgment, 197, 
198, 202 
Perceptions, first, of children, 176, 
177; instinctive, 179; acquired, 
180-182; false, 206-209 
Perkins's Metallic Tractors, 686 
Personal Identity, sense of, 455; 
change of, in biologized subjects, 
6b2, 563 ; in insanity, 668 
Personality of the Deity, 701, 702 
Perspective, rules of, 2:^2 
Peruvian Indians, scent of, 141 
Phosphenes, Dr. Serre on, 186 
Photographs, monocular view of, 193 
Physical Causation of Mental ac- 
tion, 12, 13, 40,382 
Physical manifestations, reputed, of 
Mesmerism and Spiritualism, 631, 
632 
Picturesque, sense of , 513, 514 
Pigeon, actions of, without Cerebrum, 

81 
Planchette-writing, 302-305 
Pleasure, feelings of, 171-173 ; their 

share in Emotions, 316-319 
Poet, imagination of, 488-492, 509- 

512 ; reverie of, 544, 545 

Power, notion of, in causation, 693, 

694 ; unity o^ in Nature, 696, 

697 

Preconscious activity of the Soul. 352, 

353 ; (see Unconscious Cerebration) 

Preponderance of evidence, 377 notey 

395 ; of motives, 377, 418-424 
Primary Beliefs, 226; origin of, 227- 

230 
Principles of Action, 418-425 
Progress, of common sense 483-485; 
of imagination, 513, 514 ; (see 
Race) 
Progressive nature of Truth, 409, 411 



Protoplasm, 41-46 

Pseudopodia of Khizopods, 36, 41, 42 

Pseudoscope, 191, 199 

Prudential motives, 415, 416 

QuATERXTONS, invention of, 537 
Queen-bees, artificial production d£, 
59, 60 

Rabbit, brain of, 91 
Race, improvement of. 107, 108; in 
acuteness of sensibility, 141, 142 ; 
in primary intuitions, 228-2o0 ; 
in numerical faculty, 230, '231. ; 
in musical faculty, 235-241 ; in 
moral and rehgious ideas, 249 ; in 
intellectual and moral nature, 
336, 374, 375 : in common sense, 
483-486 ; in sense of beauty, 513, 
514 ; (see Hereditary Transmit" 
sion) 
Radcliffe, Dr. C. B., 264 
Radiating fibres of Cerebrum, 99 
Rapport, supposed mesmeric, 623- 

625 
Rationalism, progress of, 484 
Reason (see Intelligence) 
Reasoning processes, 260-262 
Recollection, of sensations, 433 ; of 

ideas, 466-469, 519-523 
Reconstructive activity of nervous 

system, 341-344 
Recording process, physical nature of, 

436-452 
Rejlex Action of Nervous System, 46 : 
in Ascidian, 47 ; in Centipede, 53, 
54 ; in Mantis, 54, 55 ; in Dytis- 
cus, 65 ; of spinal cord in Frog 
68, 69 ; in Man, 70-79 ; of sensory 
ganglia, 81-85 ; of cerebrr^m, 105 
123, 124, 130, 279, 473, 717 
Reformation, criminal, 36u, 423, 426 
Regularity, formation of Labit of, 353- 

356 
Reichenbach, on Odyle, 159, 160 
Reid, Dr., on common sense, 471 , 

on dreaming, 590 
Rejuvenescence, continual, 339 
Relief, perception of, 180, 190; con 
version of, by pseudoscope. 191 ; 
notion of, given by flat picture, 
192-194; conversion of, by single 
eye, 194-I9d 



[ 



734 



Index. 



Religion, real nature of, 700, 701; 

harmony of, with science, 703- 

708 
Religious Ideas, 246, '247 
Meligious Jmpi-essions, their influence 

on bodily action, 312-315, 688- 

690 
}{ eprr^aentation, mental, 220,221 
Kespirition, movements of, 16-19, 73 
Itetina, structure of, 36 
Reverie, state of, 544-548 (see Electro- 

Biology) 
Reynolds, Or, J. R., his case of loss of 

memory, 444 
Reynolds, Sir J,, on genius, 509 
Rhizopods, pseudo podia of, 36, 41, 42 ; 

casings constructed by, 42, 43 
Right, elementary notion of, 243 ; for- 
mation of notion of, 357-359 ; its 

motive action, 415-424 
Rooks, their recognition of Sunday, 88 
Routine, slavery to, 348, 349 
Rush, Dr., his cases of recovery of 

forgotten langujige, 437, -148 
Kuskin, Mr., on science and poetry, 

506 note 
K utter, Mr., his magnetometer, 286, 

288 

Satatsic type, 425 

Scar, nutritive maintenance of, 340, 

345 
Schwann, white substance of, 33, 35 
Science, supposed atheistic tendency 

of, 698-700; harmony of, with 

religion, 703-708 
Scott, Sir Walter, his mastery of pain, 

139 ; his spectral image of Byron, 

207 ; his dictation, 281 ; his loss 

of memory, 4 44 ; his constructive 

imagination, 490 - 492 ; his 

humour, 502 
Scurvy, cured by expectancy, 688 
Seal, conversion of relief of, 195, 196 
Sea sickness, paralysis of will in, 385 ; 

induction of, by suggestion, 432 
Secretions, influence of emotions on, 

677-H81 
Rdcondarily-automatic Movements, 1 6- 

'AA, 74-76 ; growth of nervous 

system to, 213-218, 342, 343, 

473-475 
Secondary Intuitions, 486 



Selective Attention, 147 {see AVention) 

fcelt'contro), acquirement of, 330-336; 
influence of, in insanity, 663, 
673-675 

Self-determining power, a funda- 
mental fact of consciousness, 5, 6 

Self -direction of conduct, 418, 420 

Sensation, nature of, 111, 148; general 
and special, 149 : localization of, 
150: radiation of, 150, 151 ; de- 
pendence of, on blood-supply, 
151 ; diminution and exaltatioii 
of, 152, 153; its dependence on 
change of state, 154, 1,55 ; depen- 
dence of ideas upon, 168-171 ; 
association of pain or pleasure 
with, 171-178 ^ 

Sensations, production of, by cerebral 
states, 111-116, 157-168; repro- 
duction of, by memory, 112, 413, 
431-434; change of, in electro- 
biological state, .')57-560 

Sensations, subjective, 155-168 

Sensibility, emotional, simple forms 
of, 173-175 
exalted, of hypnotized awbjects, 
143, 607^ 

Sensori-motor actions, 57, 81-85, 124, 
125 

Sensorium, relation of, to Cerebrum, 
109-111 : "reproduced states of, 11 3 

Sensory Ganglia, 81-85, 119, 120 

Sensory Nerves, 37, 38 

Serre, Dr., on phosphenes, 186 

Shakspere, his pre-eminent gnius, 
509; its spontaneity, 611; his 
humour, 502 

Shark, brain of, QQ 

Shepherd's dog, 102-104 

Sign-language, 223 

Similarity, law of, 253-258 

Simpson, Sir J., on electro-biological 
sleep, 566 

Single Vision, conditions of, 186, 187 

Size, estimation of, 201-20i 

Sleeman, Mrs., her dream, 589, 590 

Sleep, state of, 568, 669 ; necessity for, 
570 ; state of brain-circulation in, 
571-573 ; conditions predisposing 
to, 574-576 ; intermediate states, 
577, 578 ; influence of expecta- 
tion, 579-580 ; awakening from, 
580-533 ; induction of, in electro* 



Index. 



735 



biological state, Z^^, 5^6 ; dura- 
tion of, 56') ; awakening from, 
567 ; riding in, 75 ; reporting in, 
719 ; piano-performance in, 75 
(see Dreaming and Hypnotism^ 
Sleep-talking, 691, 559, 597. 598 
Sleep-walking, 215, 591, 596, 608 
Smell, exaltation of sense of, 141 ; in 

hypnotic state, 607 
Sneezing, act of, 17, 82 
Solidity, perception of, 189-201 
Solitary bees, instincts of, 58 
Somnambulism, £91-601 ; (see Hyprw- 

tism). 
Soul of Man. 4 07 

Southey, his .^PoJTfional power, 276 
Spalding, Mr., his experiments on 

newly-hatched chicks, »0 
Sparrows, measurement of time by, 

88 
Spectral Illusions, 113, 114, 165-168, 

2(»6-209 
Speech, act of, 20, 21; of deaf and 
dumb, 84 ; movements of, 215, 
216 
Spencer, Mr. Herbert, on origin of 
Primary Beliefs, 228 : on Uni- 
formity of Nature, 692, 693 
Spinal Cord of Vertebrata 61, 62; of 
Fishes, 66; of Eeptile^ 67, of 
Birds, 79 : reflex actions of, 68- 
70: in Man, 70-79; its reunion 
after section, 76, 342 
Spiritualistic hypothesis, 7-10 
Spiritual communications, 29^ ; by 
tables, 297-:^01 ; by planchette, 
302-305 ; by raps, 307-:^ 1 
Spiritualism, different phases of belief 
in, 609-616; phenomena of, 115, 
165 ; elucidated by those of 
Electro-biology and Hypnotism, 
61H-618; incredible marvels of, 
396; tendency to self-deception 
in, 625 ; relative credibility of 
phenomena of, 626-635; (see 
Planchette-writing, Table-talkivg, 
and Table-turning) 
Steam-engine, invention of, 507 
Steam-hammer, invention of, 508 
Stereoscope, 189, 19it. 198 
Stewart, Prof. Dugald, 1 
Stigmatization of Kcstatics, 689 
Stork, intelligence of, 87, 88 

51 



Stunning, nature of, 39 

Subjective Sensations, 155-168 

Subjective Truth. 408-410 

Succession of Mental state?, 249-250 ; 
uniformities of, 250 ; in{lifcn::;e '^f 
will on, 250-251 

Sucking, act of, 48, 73 

Sugden, Sir E., his memory, 449 

Suggestion, effect of, 18, 27; in direct/ 
ing child's mind. 135 ; in elec- 
tro-biological state, 55.5-557, 564 ; 
in hypnotism, 603-605; in in- 
toxication, 641, 644, 646; in 
delirium, 654, 655 ; in insanity, 
667, 670, 671 (see Association) 

Suicide, imitative tendency to, Q^Qy 
667 

Sunday, recognition of, by Birds, 88, 89 

Suspended bodies, movements of, 283- 
288 

Swallowing, act of, 47, 48 

Swearing, involuntary, 282 

Sylvester, Prof., his rationale of New- 
ton's formula, 235 ; on imagina- 
tion in mathematics, 507 note 

Sympathetic System, 125-129 ; its 
connection with the cerebro- 
spinal, 126; its vaso-motor action, 
127 ; its sensory endowments, 
128 ; its influence on nutrition, 
129 

Table-talking, 297 ; Mr. Godfrey on, 

298, 299 ; Mr. Gillson on, 299, 

300; Mr. Dibdin on, 301, 524, 

525 ; other experiences of, 303. 

304, 457; unconscious cerebration 

in, 524-526 
Table-turning, 293 ; Prof. Faraday on. 

293, 294 ; self-deception in, 295- 

297. 627 note 
Tact, nature of, 417 
Tears, secretion of, 677 ' relief ^'.y. 

326 
Teething, convulsions of, 77 
Telegraph, Electric, analogy o\, t«) 

nervous system, 37, 3.^, 40 
Temperature, extraordinary acuteneMi 

of sense of, 607, 623 
Temporary Insanity, 323, 651 
Tension, nervous, 380-384 
letanus, 78 
Terebella, formation of tube by, 43 



T2>^ 



Index, 



Thalami Optici, 92, 99, 121; functions 
of, 7]5_ 

Theology, its antagonism to Science, 
698, 699, 7t)8 

Three, Yanco name for, 231 

Tickling, idea of, 319 

1 ime, measurement of, by animals, 
88, 347, 348 ; by idiot, 319 ; in 
sleep, 56b*, 583 

Todd, Dr., on delirium, 654 

Toleration, Mr. Lecky on, 542 

Touching for the King's Evil, 686 

Training, effect of, 355. 356, 378 

Tricks, tendency to, 373 

Truth, elementary notion of, 242 ; 
search for, 399, 407-413; neces- 
sary, 226, 408-411; subjective, 
40»; objective, 410; progressive 
nature of each. 409, 412 

Tubercula Quadrigemina, functions 
of, 715 

Tubular nerve-substance, 35 

I'ucker, Abraham, on unconscious 
cerebration, 531 

Tuke, Dr., his cases of false percep- 
tion, 207, 208; on emotional in- 
fluence, 682 ; on cure of warts, 
687 

Turtle, brain of, 67 

Tylor, Mr. E., on sign language, 223 ; 
on Spiritualism, 635 

Type, acquirement of, by develop- 
ment, 337-339, 342-345; main- 
tenance of, 339-342, 345-347 

Unconscious Cerebration, nature of, 
515-517; Sir W. Hamilton on, 

518, 527-529; Mr. J. S. Mill on, 

519, 529; Miss Cobbe on. 519, 

520, 526, 527; Sir H. Holland 
on, 521 ; 0. W. Holmes on, 520, 
533, 534, 539 ; Abr. Tucker on, 
631 ; Sir B. Brodie on, 531 ; Sir 
J. Herschel on, 114; action of, in 
recollection, 519-523; in table- 
talking. 524-526 ; in directing 
movements, 526-527; in supply- 
ing links of suggestion, 627-530 ; 
in arrangement of thoughts, 531 ; 
in formation of judgments, 531- 
633 ; in invention, 534-539 ; in 
emotional etates, 539, 540 ; in 
unconscious influences, 541, 542 ; | 



in recurrence of early states <>l 

feeling, 543 
Unconscious Chronometry (see Time) 
Unconscious Co-ordination of experi^ 

ences, 475-481 
Unconscious Influences, 541, 542 
Unconscious Muscular action, 283-315 
Uniformity of Nature, 705 ; idea of, 

226 ; its genesis, 241 
Unity of Nature, 6li6 

Van Swieten, reproduced navisea of, 
432 

Vaso-raotor nerves, 1*27, 128 ; regula- 
tion of nerve-force by, 380-385 ; 
influence of, on memory, 44.S; 
on sleep, 573 ; on hysteric coma, 
573 

Ventral Cord of Articulata, 52-61 

Vertebrated animals, N'ervous system 
of, 61-64 

Vif^ual discrimination, 142 

Vocalisation, act of, 20, 21, 215, 216 

Volitional Actions, distinguished from 
voluntary, 16-24, 384 ; from 
automatic, 16-20, 378-380; phy- 
sical conditions of, 380-386, 424, 
425 ; influence of emotions on, 
327-330 

Volitional Control over succession ol 
thought, •z51, 262-264, 276-278, 
386-;i9o ; over habit, 366, 367 ; 
over beliefs, 395-413; over con- 
duct, 413-428; (see Will) 

Voluntary Movements, distinguished 
from volitional, 16, 24, 3»4 

Voluntary Muscles, 379 

Walking, act of, 18-20 

Walking erect, 213-215, 474 

Wallace, Mr. A. R. , referred to, 627 note 

Waller, Dr., on regeneration of Nerves 
76 

Warts, charming of, 687 

Watt, James, his invention of the 
steam-engine, 507 ; of the gover- 
nor, 507, 608 

Watts, Dr. 378 

Welch language, loss and recovery of, 
437,438 

Well-being, sense of, 173 

Wenham, Mr., his invention of bh« 
binocular microscope, 538 



Index. 



737 



Wheatstone, Sir C, on binocular 

vi-sion, 189-191, 196, 202-203 
White nerve-substance, '■\b 
VViltuhiess of children. 13 1, 135 
Wilkinson, Dr. Garth, on hypnotism, 

603-605 
Will, definition of, 376, 392; action 
of, on bodily mechanism. 21-24; 
control of, over muscular move- 
ment, 12:'., 281, 377-:^84, 424, 
425; paralysis of, 38;'., 647; con- 
trol of mental ;ictivity by, 25-28 ; 
exerted through selective atten- 
tion, 109, 132-136; influence of, 
on succession of thought, 251, 
262-264, 276-278, 3^6-390; in- 
fluence of, on emotions, 330-336 ; 
conti-ol of habit by. 366, 367; 
initiating power of, 378, 4 18; re- 
straiuing power of, 378, 384, 420; 
directing power of, 386-391; in- 
fluence of, on beliefs, 395-413 ; 
on conduct, 413-428 ; relation of, 
to motives, 413-423; modifying 
power of, 414, 420; determining 
power of, 423-428 ; education of, 
4 23, 4-4, 427, 428 ; action of, in 
memory, 4 66-470; in common 
sense, 482; in constructive imagi- 



nation, 488-492 ; in creative 
imagination, 5( '9-511 ; suspen- 
sion of, in reverie and abstrac- 
tion, 544-548; in electro-biolo- 
gical state, 558; suspension of in 
dreaming, 584; in somnambulism, 
591 ; in intoxication, 636, 640, 
647, 649-653; in insanitv, 657, 
658, 673, 674; (see Volitional 
A c/ions. ) 

Will in Nature, 703-708 

Willis, circle of, 39 

Witchcraft, delusions of, 654, 655 ; 
decline of belief in, 484 ; testi- 
mony in, 634 

Wit. 498 

Words, the signs of ideas, 223-225 ; 
unconscious combination of, 5" 9 

Wordsworth, on imagination and 
fancy, 4 97; on working of genius, 
510, 511 

Worker-bees, 59, 60 

Wren, intelligence of, 86, 87 

Yawning, excitation of, 82, 115 

Zerah Colburn, 232-235 
Zschokke, Heinrich, his asserted di« 
viniug power, 633 



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